


AFTER THE VICTORY

by BellaGracie



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Creepy Cray, Creepy Snow, F/M, Miner Gale, Prostitute Peeta, Single Victor, Unhappily Married Katniss
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-20
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:33:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 59
Words: 57,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22339342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BellaGracie/pseuds/BellaGracie
Summary: My first, my very first fan fiction. First posted five years ago."There is only one rule, Mr. Mellark, but I shall enforce its observance with impunity. To disregard it would result in consequences nothing short of catastrophic, not only towards yourself but towards your friends and family. DO AS I SAY."Changed the original ending. I got help along the way from shannon17, especially on the back end.
Relationships: Katniss Everdeen/Peeta Mellark, Peeta Mellark/Other(s)
Comments: 324
Kudos: 168





	1. THE CAPITOL

**Author's Note:**

> Peeta Mellark is the Single Victor of his games.
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: Dark Universe, Prostitution
> 
> When I decided to unlock this fic, I was nervous about the darker aspects.

When the client leaves, Peeta reaches for the blindfold and yanks it from his face. Then he looks at himself in the mirror. What does he see?

There is a clear gap now, separating the before and after.

Until he was reaped, Peeta had been with only one person. And with her, only once.

In the following year, there are still times when he breaks down and cries. Usually after.

Some customers want him to do some pretty weird things for them, of course. The weirder the request, the bigger the tip.

For months, years, he can’t sleep.

* * * * *

Peeta's a Victor, sure, but he's also just a boy from 12. Everything about the Capitol is shiny and new. He walks around gawking at the tall buildings, marveling at people whose thinness he guesses is achieved through artificial means -- namely, not from want, not from hunger. It takes him a while to get used to the fact that people keep wanting to touch him. He recoils as if stung.

Peeta meets Snow for the first time at the conclusion of his Victory Tour, when he's ushered in for a private audience. Snow is seated behind a massive wooden desk. He looks up when Peeta enters. He smiles without opening his mouth.

Peeta notices the color of Snow's eyes: they are the palest grey Peeta has ever seen. Snow says little, but it's enough. Peeta now knows who is the master and how he must behave.

"There is only one rule, Mr. Mellark, but I shall enforce its observance with impunity. To disregard it would result in consequences nothing short of catastrophic, not only towards yourself but towards your friends and family. DO AS I SAY."

Peeta sits frozen, blank-faced with fear. Snow continues: "Your family -- they run the only bakery in Twelve? You have two brothers who have fortunately aged out of the Reaping? Pity no one volunteered to take your place."

Peeta never drank until he became a Victor. Not even a sip of the brandy his family kept around to mix in with the fancier cakes.

Now, he can't seem to start each day without at least half a bottle of the strongest liquor available.

* * * * *

The system is straightforward, beautiful in its simplicity.

Clients telephone a number to make an appointment. They stipulate their preferred dates and times. The information is entered into a vast database.

They pay before anything else.

Peeta’s clients always call back for further appointments.

His first year appointments are all one-on-ones.

The next year, he is sometimes asked to perform on a stage, on a dais, on a table. There is always a gasp from the audience when he is fully disrobed.

“He’s like a statue,” he overhears one say.

Others say things that make him blush to the roots of his hair.

People surge forward, eager to touch. But guards are there to stand in their way. Rules are rules. Especially in the Capitol.

He begins to see himself as performing a valuable service. His clients need him.

After a year of working in the Capitol, Peeta knows how to fuck in the unlikeliest positions. He also knows how to have sex with a man or men, or with two or three women at a time. He has never, however, had to do the act with an animal. He's not sure he could survive such a thing.

Once, they brought him a monster. He smiled pleasantly at the -- thing -- and took four of the libido enhancers rather than the recommended two. He truly wanted to forget what was happening to his lower body.

What he fears most is being worn down. Ending up like a few of the older victors – alcoholic and unwanted. Alone.

* * * * *

“Don’t let it upset you,” Finnick tells him. “The money – it doesn’t cheapen you. It’s for them. To make them feel better. To make them feel more in control.”

Finnick studies him. "You need a little more color. You've gotten pale. Use this." He leaves a small jar on the table and leaves.

Peeta picks it up later and sees it's a pot of rouge. The kind he used to see women by the slag heap in 12 rub on their cheeks to appear younger or more attractive. He shudders but dips two fingers in and rubs the pale tint on his cheeks. Finnick's right: he has gotten pale.

* * * * *

Back in 12, there are poor women from the Seam who regularly trade their bodies for food. Peeta’s memories of these women are sordid, mixed up with feverish childhood daydreams. The older and more experienced Peeta feels nothing but pity.

* * * * *

Peeta is lucky: in his third year of working in the Capitol, an older woman keeps him for her exclusive use, for a full year. He doesn't know how much she paid Snow for that year. All he knows is that there was a contract, and that Snow himself signed off on it. Peeta's signature was of course not required.

He remembers how they took him from his room and said he was to go with her. He met her for the first time in a limousine. The amount she paid for him must have been staggering.

Peeta has no idea why the woman wants to keep him and his first time with her is like falling. After a month, he and the woman begin appearing together at public functions. Afterwards, he has to fuck her. Never in weird places, for which he is grateful. He knows how lucky he is. There's a lot to be said, Peeta thinks, for bottling up emotions. Do it long enough and pretty soon you won't feel anything at all.

When they do conduct a semblance of conversation, the woman complains about her husband. It doesn't take Peeta long to learn that the husband lives off-premises, with a mistress who is young enough to be his own daughter.

The first time after, he goes to the bathroom and takes a long shower, the water as hot as he can stand. Afterwards, there are three gold coins on the night table next to his side of the bed.

Peeta stares at the coins, wondering whether they'd always been there and he'd just never noticed. He is startled out of his trance by the woman's voice. "How old are you?" the woman asks. "You seem so young."

"I'm 20," Peeta says. (The realization that he's been three years at this is almost enough to make him sick)

The woman gives a small shudder. "I was that age," she says, "when I was married."

Peeta has nothing to say to that. He merely looks at her, caution in his eyes.

"Get some new clothes," she says. "This shiny stuff they make you wear, it makes you look -- not yourself."

"Any preferences," Peeta asks, carefully eyeing the coins. He doesn't care about what they make him wear; has never thought clients had any complaints.

"I think you'd look good in orange," the woman says. "Or purple. Go to Cinna. Tell him I sent you."

Cinna is careful and thorough. He makes Peeta try all manner of different clothing. At the end of a week, Cinna has designed a set of outfits that are sleek and tight-fitting yet still allow for ease of movement. He's made fitted jackets that emphasize Peeta's broad shoulders and narrow hips and pants that cling to his thighs. When Peeta dons one of Cinna's outfits for the woman, she claps her hands and jumps to her feet, giddy as a schoolgirl. "You look amazing," she says, coming close and trailing her fingers across Peeta's chest. "This is perfect for the gala tonight. In the meantime," she wraps her arms around Peeta's waist and presses into him, "get these off."

The new clothes do wonders for Peeta. More people want him. Peeta doesn't know whether to be angry or grateful to the woman. On the one hand, he can choose which of his customers to sleep with on any given day. On the other, he is pushed almost to the point of exhaustion.

* * * * *

When the year is up, and Peeta has to leave, he is sorry. The woman looks so sad. She tells him that she tried to extend his contract, but Snow wouldn't hear of it. She offered more money, but Snow said he had other uses for Peeta. The woman's sobs are heartbreaking.

That woman is followed by years of random clients. Then, just before his 25th birthday, he develops a more intimate relationship with one of his clients.

She’s been a customer for a year or two. She has a job, unlike most Capitolites. She works in some kind of Government division as a record-keeper. They're the highest-paid government workers. The records can be manipulated, if the right gifts are directed to the right person.

They meet at the designated bar. She asks where he's from.

"12," he says.

She asks him to describe it; he does so reluctantly. The town, the Justice Building, the mines, the Seam . . . He feels an old bitterness.

"Look," he finally says. "You didn't come here to talk. Snow has other people he expects me to see."

She nods, smiling. "I like you," she says.

She lies on her back, lifting her skirt so that it bunches up around her waist, opening her legs wide. Her underwear is thin, shimmery, like the gold nets Finnick sometimes wears around his waist.

Peeta has learned more than a few skills already. His hands and tongue work their usual magic. The woman gasps and clutches the sheets. She shatters the first time from just his fingers.

As Peeta positions himself between her legs she suddenly reaches for his cock. He pulls away slightly and says, "No. Not yet." She appears stunned. She has probably never been refused in her life. It's a risk, but Peeta thinks that if he keeps her a little off-balance, she will enjoy him more. He thrusts himself in her and she is surprised but acquiescent. Her body shakes. Her moans start to crescendo. He comes violently inside her.

Then he lets her touch him and grows hard again. He comes in her mouth, deep in her throat, and she takes all of him. Wiping her lips after, she murmurs, "You are perfect. Such a perfect boy."

* * * * *

There comes a time when Peeta asks her innocent-seeming questions: about where she lives, about whether she is married.

She never answers any of his questions; after that, he knows to keep silent -- before, during and after.

Once, only once does he ask if she's ever been with other Victors. He knows he is giving away too much of his own feelings, but she answers without hesitation: “Only once,” she says. “But, not really.”

“Have you ever been with a man?” she asks.

Peeta nods.

“You might have been with my husband,” she says. “He likes to use handcuffs.”

Peeta has a dozen of those kinds of clients. He tries to forget them quickly, afterwards.

“I don’t know,” he responds.

He stares at the ceiling, trying not to show how dis-interested he is in the conversation. He feels the woman moving closer. She lays her head on his chest. Eventually, she falls asleep. Peeta's eyes remain open, long into the night.


	2. THE WOMAN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: Peeta with his clients -- DARK AS DARK.
> 
> Also, the scene nobody asked for: Coriolanus Snow having sex (implied)

She asks whether Peeta has nightmares about his Games and he says of course. Worst is the memory of almost drowning. The sky was a sharp, clear blue. He clutched at anything, but the current was powerful and dragged him along.

The woman begins opening up more, telling Peeta about District Nine, where she lived as a child. About her best friend, who was reaped when she was 12 and who lasted just three days before she was forced off a cliff by a savage Career who himself was killed a few days later.

She asks whether Peeta has nightmares about his Games and he says, of course. Worst is the memory of almost drowning. The sky was a sharp, clear blue. He clutched at anything, but the current was powerful and dragged him along. He was scared, more scared than he’d ever been in his life.

He still can't believe how he won. Though winning isn't all that good a feeling.

"Yes," the woman breathes against his chest, even though Peeta hasn't spoken his thoughts aloud. "Yes, I know what you mean."

* * *

One day he whispers, after they are both spent, “Why did you marry him?”

The woman takes a few moments to answer. When she does, her face is sad: “My father liked him. And I trusted my father. He wouldn’t have chosen a bad man for me.”

Shortly after, she slides to the edge of the bed, sits up, and tells him she has to go. He watches as she puts on her skirt, stands, and smooths out the wrinkles.

* * * * *

A month before he sees the woman for the last time, he notices she looks tired.

"You look tired," he says.

"Thank you," she says wryly, then roots around in her purse. "I brought something for that."

The clear glass bottle she pulls from her bag is half-full with round, red pills.

That night, she tells him about her pregnancy. She was barely 20. She miscarried. She doesn't mention a father.

"My child would have been 11 now," she says.

The numbers start clicking in Peeta's head. She looks at him and laughs. He flushes.

Suddenly, she tells him she wants to have food brought up to the room. She requests truffles, two bottles of champagne. He's puzzled but doesn't question her.

They are together only one more time after that. It is pleasant, if somewhat less heated than usual. He remembers that she says one word, just before she comes: "Please."

She disappears from his life, an event which only elicits from Peeta a momentary feeling of confusion.

He won't meet her again, ever. Which is just as well.

She has a name: Jaylene. She is also one of Snow's most valuable assets.

* * * * *

It is well past midnight. Snow has spent hours watching videos of Peeta's "performance" over the past year. He snorts when he gets to the conversation between Jaylene and Peeta about her pregnancy. Jaylene is silent. She keeps her eyes lowered. But she can hear very well the concern in Peeta's voice.

"How was it, with him?" Snow asks.

Jaylene gives Snow a careful smile. "Good, of course," she says. "All your Victors are well-trained."

There's a silence. Jaylene wonders if she has offended Snow in some way. Most of the time, he appears to enjoy her forthrightness and playfulness. But not always. She knows she has to tread carefully.

"What else?" Snow asks. "What else about him?"

Jaylene thinks.

"Must we talk so much about him?" she pouts. "I'd much rather do -- something else."

Snow begins to grin.

Jaylene gives an inward sigh of relief. She runs her perfectly manicured fingers through Snow's coif.

"Show me one that isn't afraid," Snow says, almost to himself. "And it's so unnecessary. All the  
Victors need to do is what I tell them to do. Nothing could be simpler."

He stops, watches some more, then makes a move to shut the video.

"That young man," Snow says. "I wondered whether he'd been cured of the habit."

"What habit?" Jaylene purrs, already straddling Snow's hips.

"The habit of thinking," Snow says.

* * * * *

It is just before dawn. Snow looks down at the sleeping Jaylene. Is Peeta really no threat, as she maintains?

Then why does he feel such a profound sense of unease about this particular Victor?

There is a fable handed down from the Dark Days: A wasp enters a King's palace. The wasp stings the King, over and over. And not all the King's soldiers and not all the King's men can put the King back together again.

Will Peeta be the wasp that stings Snow?

Snow's system is perfect, replete in itself. It can admit no disturbances. No provocateurs.

When Snow acts, he acts with impunity. For now, he will bide his time.

"Ah, Mr. Mellark," Snow says, smiling into the darkness, "Your games are are about to become very interesting


	3. SURVEILLANCE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: Peeta with more clients!
> 
> And MORE President Snow depravity!
> 
> Close your eyes if you can't stand Peeta with other clients! THIS IS NOT A SWEET STORY.

Peeta is receiving a client. He's in his suite in Snow's whorehouse, a tall, bullet-shaped thing on the bank of the river that winds through the Capitol. It has everything the Victors could possibly desire: a restaurant, a bar, and gambling tables for the Victors to throw away their earnings. Who wants to keep tainted money? Most Victors gamble.

"Come and give us a kiss," says the green-haired woman, as soon as Peeta appears in the doorway. "You like my new look?"

Peeta is about to say something ridiculous and flattering, but before he can even get the words out, she is there, embracing him and covering his mouth with hers. This is far from his first time with her, but each time feels worse than the last.

He lets her play with her tongue in his mouth for a minute or so, though the way she nips his bottom lip with her teeth is revolting. She sighs. "You taste -- divine," she murmurs, pushing her hips into him.

"Shall we --?" he says, indicating the bed with a nod. He knows it's clumsy, lacking in finesse, but the disgust rises with every passing second and he's afraid. He doesn't have the energy to keep pretending with her.

The room is warm, the floors emitting a pulsing, radiant heat.

"First I must give you a bath," the woman purrs, starting to unfasten Peeta's shirt. "You know how clean I like you."

There's not a speck of dirt on him, anywhere, but it's an indication that she wants to start the evening in the tub. He shrugs. Quickly, he divests himself of his attire. The water smells faintly of lavender. The woman's eyes lap hungrily at him.

Their routine is well-established, though each time Peeta is careful to add new touches. He'll do a little something extra with his tongue. Or push into her hard. He slips into the tub. Streams of warm water shoot from invisible holes. The woman follows.

She's barely in the water when she flings herself at him. "Ravish me, Peeta!" she whimpers. Peeta begins massaging the woman's breasts, while her insatiable mouth dips on his neck.

Three hours later, Snow clicks off the screen.

He stands and straightens his jacket. He'll record Peeta's doings and watch later. For now, Snow has an important appointment to keep.

* * * * *

The man is already there, as always. The place is crowded, for a Tuesday night. Fucking Capitolites, Snow snorts. It's raining. People don't like walking around in the rain; their faces might melt off. They duck inside bars to pass the time.

"I presume you've found something useful about the Victor," Snow says.

The man doesn't reply. He nods and slides a thick, brown envelope across the table.

"What is this?" Snow inquires.

"Bedtime reading," the man answers, with a smirk.

Snow snorts and opens the envelope. There's a thick document inside. He peruses the first three pages and decides to leave the rest for later. He's in no hurry. He wants to be able to focus.

The man is watching him carefully. He casually rips open a foil packet and slides a tablet into his soda water. It fizzes up immediately. The liquid threatens to overflow the rim of the glass, but doesn't. "Just Alka Seltzer," the man says with a smirk. "So, got any questions?"

"Is he a threat? On the basis of this --" Snow's eyes run over the pages -- "I don't know."

"He won't try and run," the man says confidently.

"And what makes you so sure," Snow asks, more than a little annoyed by the man's smugness.

"Just keep reading," the man says, smirking.

Snow lapses into thought. "Ah!" is all he says. He looks down at the report. "Perhaps you are right. I hope you are right. I wouldn't like Mellark to run." He starts getting up. "And, Mr. Talon, though I'd very much like to stay and discuss the ramifications of this -- evidence -- further, I'm afraid that more pressing business awaits."

"Of course," the other man says quickly. He extends his hand. Snow brushes the proffered hand with the tips of his fingers. "It's a pleasure doing business with you, President Snow," the man says. "I'll expect payment through the usual channels."

Such a pity, Snow thinks, as he walks out of the bar. There's a scuffle somewhere behind him. A voice is angrily shouting, "What's going on? -- the hell is this!"

Capable men end up in Snow's dungeon, sooner or later. If there's one thing President Snow can't abide, it's capable men. They are entirely too presumptuous.


	4. WHEN THE VICTOR IS HOME

During Peeta's first full year of working in the Capitol, the Victor is a boy from Seven.

The year after that, it's a girl from Four -- tall and strong, with flaming red hair and skin like milk. She reminds everyone of Annie. Finnick worked doubly hard that year to get sponsors. During those games, he hardly slept.

But what happened to the girl after her victory, that Finnick couldn't help.

Peeta swore, during his first year mentoring, that he'd never forget the names of his tributes. But he realizes his folly soon enough. It's too difficult, the deaths are too gruesome, he'd much rather forget.

For four or five years in succession, the Victors are boys. Careers, mostly.

The first female Victor in seven years is a stunning, raven-haired beauty from One.

Peeta's been told he'll be rotated out after 10, 15 years at the most. After nine years, when he still has no word about his possible retirement, he brings up the matter with Snow. Snow puts his head to one side and replies with a non-commital "We shall see."

Peeta has to bite his tongue. He knows it won't help his case to argue. He has to pretend to go along. He smiles politely, he attends all the Capitol parties, he sleeps with whoever he's ordered to sleep with. But knowing that Snow is toying with him doesn't make his situation any easier to endure. His frustration grows.

* * * * *

Usually Peeta's dreams are feverish nightmares of the arena. But occasionally he dreams of _her_. A dark-haired woman. An olive-skinned Seam beauty. He's known her for years.

Peeta's always been able to read other people -- it's the thing that makes him so good at what he does. But the woman in his dreams frustrates him; her mystery is a knot he can't unravel. Perhaps that's why she is always there, lurking at the edge of his consciousness.

He'll forget her or thinks he does, for months at a time. But each time he catches sight of her -- even if it's only a glimpse -- he feels the flare of desire.

He imagines he sees her walking the streets of the Capitol. Sometimes, right in front of him, tossing her dark hair. The rare nights when he's by himself, he'll hear the whistle of an arrow as it grazes his ear. All of it -- just moonbeams and fakery. Oh, Peeta knows full well the meaning of heartbreak.

It frightens him, how much the years only seem to strengthen his longing.

She's married to a miner, now. What did he expect? It's a rare woman who can get by without the help from a miner's salary. He still sees her, when he goes to the Hob for liquor. She trades in game; her husband is seldom with her. If their eyes happen to meet, she quickly looks away, but not before Peeta catches a look in her eyes. Is it regret? No, Peeta decides. More like pity.

They don't speak. At most, they'll give each other polite nods of recognition. It's just as well: there are advantages to this. Peeta is free to construct a narrative for being with her, no matter how improbable.

In one scenario, Peeta goes with her to the forest. The green is so lush, so astounding that it hurts his eyes. Everywhere are trees. Gracefully, she ascends one. In the dream, Peeta follows her without difficulty. Together, they look down at the green canopy of the forest. They talk about favorite colors, and why she loves being outside. She shows him snares and lets him practice with her bone and arrow.

His favorite is a narrative where he and she sit together in front of a fire. She knits; he reads. Beneath her hands, her belly is high and round, a promise. All of the future awaits.

In reality, none of the working Victors, himself included, are fertile. It's something that is done to them at the start, before their very first clients. They're told the procedure is irreversible.

* * * * *

He rarely sleeps with the other Victors, even though they -- male and female Victors alike -- are available to him. Would be more than eager, probably. Yet he prefers to remain aloof. All the other Victors are to him are occasional, pleasant fucks.

When he is home -- and, even after all these years, Peeta still thinks of District 12 as home -- Peeta can have anyone. His preference is for women from the Seam, though he knows even Merchant girls would be more than willing. They've all watched his games; they remember him as the boy who protected that year's female tributes with a gallantry bordering on recklessness. All of Panem swooned over his courage (with the notable exception of the family of the other tribute from 12, Ariana. (But then Ariana had offered herself as an ally for the Careers at the Cornucopia; what happened subsequently was -- none of it -- Peeta's fault)

"Is this how you want it?" the women persist in asking, wanting so badly to please. Peeta remains silent, bored already.

The women seem to want all of him -- he ends up having to tell them to go. Some come back, the more desperate even pound on his door. Peeta sits upstairs, trying to staunch his guilt and regret and loneliness.


	5. THE VICTOR'S AWAKENING

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peeta/Katniss backstory. I know you've all been wondering.

Is this, Peeta wonders, how his story will end? Like some cheap, tawdry form of entertainment, with the central character (himself) a broken man, feeding off his unrequited passion?

Peeta himself hasn't completely given up. He still thinks (hopes) he can figure out a way to triumph over his current (humiliating) condition.

One fall day he sees Katniss again. She's with Gale, they're walking hand in hand. Peeta remembers: it's a Sunday, the miners' day off. A few steps ahead of them is a little boy. He skips, he laughs. He calls Katniss "Mama."

Of course, Peeta thinks. Of course. The boy has the same hair and skin as the father and mother. His body is lean, like the bodies of every child in the Seam. But he doesn't walk with either of his parents' fluid gait. And his eyes -- they're a startling, dark blue. He remembers Katniss's mother and sister: the boy must have taken some of his grandmother's merchant coloring. Altogether, the child is striking.

Peeta nods in polite greeting. Gale nods coolly in return. Katniss bestows upon him the briefest of glances. In a moment, Peeta is close enough to feel her, feel the warmth of her. He wants to knock against her; he could pretend it's an accident, but he knows the merest press of her body against his will burn him like fire. After they pass, Peeta stops and briefly closes his eyes. In her wake is a smell of the woods -- something, a mystery.

Peeta doesn't return to town for a few weeks. Alone in his empty house, though, he can't stop thinking of Katniss. Her lips. The way she smiled at her son. The motherly tenderness in her eyes.

He thinks of something else, a long-buried memory: of a lake. Swimming. Embracing. Her.

* * * * *

Peeta stands in the middle of a meadow. He knows where the lake is, but he's in no hurry to get there. The grass is parched by a long summer and drought. But he knows that once, in the middle of this field, before he was Reaped, he and Katniss kissed and embraced and pledged to love each other forever.

He's avoided that spot for years, the memories too painful.

Now, after that glimpse of her out with her family, his desire for her feels new again.

Peeta looks about him. There is such a feeling of space here. He seems to see it through new eyes, the experienced eyes of a man who's spent far too long living a reality not of his making.

Far off, he sees isolated plumes of smoke. From the coal mines? His jaw tightens. The existence of the mines makes him angry. Just another form of servitude; the Capitol always wins.

He looks down at the earth. Wondering.

 _All kinds of things are buried underneath here, he thinks. But not me. No, not me. Not yet,_ _anyway._

He turns back towards the town. He'll go to the lake another day.

* * * *

Starting that night, Katniss's eyes begin to inhabit Peeta's dreams again. So powerfully that he has to paint them.

Peeta hasn't painted for years, not wanting to put his thoughts where the Capitol might possibly find them. In fact he has at least a dozen pictures of Katniss, all hidden away in a room at the top of the stairs, a room he always keeps locked.

At the end of two weeks, he has six new paintings. He keeps them in his bedroom, so that the last thing he sees before going to sleep is her gaze.

* * * * *

After, he goes over to visit Haymitch. "Where've you been, boy?" the older Victor cackles. "Lurking about the Seam?"

Peeta snorts but says only, "More deaths. Not surprisingly, in the Seam. The poor feed on each other when there is nothing else."

A week later, there's a murder. The man is a fortysomething blusterer named Christian Melloy. Said to have wandering hands. But it is the theft of the purse filled with the miner's pay that the widow regrets most deeply. She goes to the Justice Building and files a formal complaint against the man's purported paramour, a Seam spitfire named Stella. What a name, Peeta snorts. He's enjoyed her more than a few times.

Predictably, the judge throws out the widow's complaint. Wouldn't want to do anything to upset the vixen. Rumored to be a witch, Stella is. Skilled in the black arts or some such.

She _is_ skilled, Peeta thinks, with a lascivious curl of his lips. Probably makes the poor Seam men see stars in exchange for lightening their pockets.

Stella should probably watch her back, Peeta thinks. He knows how these things work. An eye for an eye.

The Seam is like a sleeping dragon. Once awakened, it will be nigh impossible to put it down.

The parallels between himself and the murdered man -- poor, desperate fuck -- are not lost on Peeta.

Something floats up in his consciousness, some deeply buried memory.

_A true gentleman cultivates Politeness of Mind. Honesty and Delicacy in all things._

Peeta snorts. There is no politeness left in him. No honesty and delicacy, either.

He could have had her yesterday, he thinks. But he didn't. He won't. Perhaps he's becoming a new sort of man.


	6. WINTER IN THE SEAM

The winter is brutal. In fact, it's the worst winter in almost 20 years. The difference between Seam and Merchant is never more stark. More Seam children show up in town, begging. Often, they wind up at the bakery. They know the baker has a soft heart and will give bread to the ones brave enough to wait by the back door. The wife, however, is another matter. She screams at the children if they come too close to the glass display windows, and chases them away with a broom. Peeta's brothers merely shrug, inured to her ways. Peeta's father looks ashen.

The cold deepens, Peeta frets. He spends his days looking out at the gloom, spinning scenarios in his head. He plays with the possibility of framing his desire as a business proposition -- being with him for one night. In exchange, she would receive enough coin to ensure that she, her child and Gale survive the winter. The child is -- Peeta guesses: Seven? Eight?

He’d expected the boy to have his mother's grey eyes, or his father’s hazel ones, but he doesn’t. He has eyes of a startling indigo blue. And something about those eyes tugs at Peeta, reminding him of the boy he had once been.

From all that Peeta has seen of him, Gale seems to be a practical man. And Katniss, he knows, is a practical woman. Gale's meager salary from working in the mines will not be enough to stave off starvation. Peeta has only to look at Katniss and her son, thin as birds. If the situations were reversed, if Katniss were Peeta's wife, and Peeta was the miner, and their son was starving. If Gale was a Victor, and came to Peeta with such a proposition . . . No, Peeta would rather see his family starve than have to give up his wife, even for one night.

Peeta's many years in the Capitol have confused him. The Capitol wouldn't even blink at such a transaction, but 12 is another matter entirely. Dangling coin in front of Katniss, in exchange for using her body -- how is that any different from what Cray does, using the starving women who come to his door to sate his own twisted pleasure? Peeta can't bring himself to put the plan in motion.

Still, he can't get the memory of Katniss's son -- in particular, his eyes, those watchful blue eyes -- out of his head.

The winter drags on. Katniss's son is so weak that his legs can barely support him, and Katniss is forced to sling him on her hip. She is still strong, but there's a new look in her eyes. Almost, a hopelessness.

Someone vandalizes the Justice Building. Armed Peacekeepers are on duty 24/7 to make sure there are no further occurrences.

One brutally cold day, as he's walking to the Hob to replenish his supply of liquor, he sees her. She's alone, her face is gaunt. She stops at Greasy Sae's table, where he's headed, too. He strides forward. She's startled when she recognizes him, and her face becomes a deep, angry red. He whispers her name, but she looks at him coldly, mistrustfully. Something about her look makes him stop. His breathing is heavy; he wants so much to help her.

"Katniss," he whispers.

Instantly, she wheels around. Her eyes narrow when they land on him. "Peeta," she says. She begins to turn away.

He puts out a hand, grabs her elbow. "Wait!" he says.

A well of silence pools around them. The entire Hob seems to be waiting, watching the two.

"Let go of me, Peeta," she hisses.

He doesn't.

A miner comes up. "Leave her alone, Victor. The women you want are over by the slag heap."

Peeta recognizes the man. It's Thom. He was -- is -- a friend of Gale's.

A restless noise rises around them. Cries of "That's Gale Hawthorne's wife. Get Gale!"

That is when Peeta finally lets go. He holds up both hands. "I meant no disrespect," he says.

"Get going, Victor," Thom says. "It's not safe for the likes of you here."


	7. THE HUNTRESS

On Sundays, Gale is home from the mines and Katniss takes off for the forest, as soon as she can. They haven't been speaking much, lately. It takes too much effort to even argue. What's clear is that Jason needs food, and soon.

Day is still just a glimmer of light. The trees in the pre-dawn dark have nearly identical trunks.

Her tread is practiced, silent, but every now and then the forest releases strange whistling or crackling noises. The wind, perhaps. A mass of fallen leaves being blown here and there, perhaps. The wispy shadows have never frightened her.

She never has to fear becoming lost. Ridiculous, the fears of the soft Townies. _But not all are soft, you know that, Katniss._ She shakes her head to clear it of distracting thoughts.

Her stomach gives a low growl. She remembers that she came to the woods for a purpose. She is here to hunt. Hunting will save her boy's life.

She hasn't spied so much as a squirrel. The birds are silent. The cold is punishing.

She wishes she could make it to the lake but she knows she can't walk very far. She is too weak. Her ribs grow more prominent with each passing week. It occurs to her that the girls who offer themselves up to Cray may be thinking correctly. They return home bruised, but at least there's enough in coin to keep them and their families going for at least another week. Will she even make it to spring?

She catches herself. No, she must never think that way. She is impatient at her weakness of mind. She'll walk as far as she has to -- to the ends of the earth if she has to -- to be able to bring game home.

Her boy believes she can walk on water. She smiles a little at that. She's heard stories of the Old Days. There was a man who did walk on water. He was a fisherman.

But how could there be fishermen in Twelve?

It's a story, nothing more.

The darkness is finally beginnng to lift. Her spirits rise. She thinks she sees something up ahead. Antlers?

Being in the forest is what she is good at. Back there, in the Seam, Gale's loud and angry words simply confuse her. She can't permit herself to get angry back. She has to keep her thoughts clear. If she and her boy are to survive.

Now she is sure: the creature a few yards ahead is a buck. A big one. Katniss draws back her bow.

And there it is: her aim is true. As true as it has ever been.

* * * * *

The buck is enormous; she wonders how it managed to get that way, with winter foraging so difficult. She can't carry much back with her, but she manages to quarter it (clumsily) and keeps what she knows she can't carry wrapped thickly with some heavy burlap, strung high up in a tall tree.

Now that she has food, she urgently wants to get back to her boy. Hopefully, Gale will be able to come back and retrieve the rest of the meat, unless some animal gets to it first. Or unless it spoils.

She's bone-weary, but the thought of ladling hot stew into her son's bowl makes her keep up the pace.

The sky has a strange greenish-gray hue by the time she stumbles out of the forest. She's barely stepped away from the line of trees when there is a loud blast of thunder. Katniss grimaces and starts to run. A winter rain is a rarity in these parts. What could have brought that on?

By the time Katniss makes it back to the Seam, she is soaked through and shivering.

Gale yells something at her about being stupid but she doesn't have the strength to reply. She drops the heavy sack from her shoulders. The last thing she remembers is the sound of her little boy's sobs.


	8. A GOOD MAN

One day, he sees her emerge from the forest. She's bent almost double by a large and heavy (Peeta notices how much carrying it makes her stoop) burlap sack flung over her shoulders. It is cold that day, yet the sweat seems to be pouring out of her. He follows her at a discreet distance, all the way to her home, a decrepit shack at the end of a dirt road. Her face is deathly pale. If any Peacekeepers had seen her . . .

But they hadn't, they hadn't. Katniss's luck -- and Peeta's too, for that matter -- held.

He watches as Gale flings open the door to their home and starts yelling. It takes all of Peeta's willpower not to come forward and intervene.

It's an ugly scene, an ugly moment. Peeta should never have seen it. But now that he has, he can't ever forget it.

Wariness has always been his first line of defense -- in the Arena and long before that, when he searched for ways to elude his mother's angry fists. In the years since he won his Games he's made it a point to stay back, out of sight. It doesn't, however, stop him from mourning at the sight of Katniss's dreadful fatigue that day. If she were his, Peeta thinks miserably, he'd make sure she never had to hunt again.

Gale butchers the meat, after dark. Then, his brothers come, bearing away parcels held against their thin bodies.

The next day, Peeta sees Katniss's mother and sister entering and leaving. He watches, just out of sight. They come almost every day. But never her. Not for weeks.

Peeta knows that Katniss's mother and sister are healers. He realizes Katniss must have fallen ill after she was caught in the rain, the last time she went hunting. The thought of her lying sick and feverish in her bed throws his emotions into turmoil. Every day, he lurks, watching the shack for any sign of her.

Because, in spite of everything that's happened to him, Peeta is still the kind and generous boy who passed bread to Seam children when he thought his mother wasn't looking, and because he has more money than he will ever need in his lifetime, Peeta decides. It is February, the Seam is on its knees, he can stand by no longer. An idea has been brewing in his mind for the last year or so. He knows it's time to put that idea to the test.

* * * * *

The Seam is a place where people regard outsiders with suspicion. There's a kind of hidden magic beneath those broken roofs and within those falling-down houses. The seeming degradation of the narrow lanes is simply a skin, meant to send outsiders scurrying away.

Peeta knows that extending help isn't as simple as standing in the middle of the Hob and handing out gold coin.

With that in mind, he approaches his father first. His father, who always regards Peeta with such sorrow.

"People," he remembers his father saying once, not too long ago, "neither get what they deserve nor deserve what they get. The rich man forces his way through the eye of the needle."

Sometimes his father speaks in riddles that even Peeta finds hard to understand. But he understands that statement about the rich man. Because he, Peeta, is rich. And he is determined. He will force his way. Because the Seam is crumbling. _She_ is crumbling.

The matter must be handled with delicacy. He's aware of the Seam pride. Of her pride.

He is also aware of his reputation -- particularly in the Seam. He's not regarded highly. First because he seemed to have abandoned his fellow tribute, a scrawny Seam girl. The class divisions in 12 yawned widest the year of his Victory, and nothing that Peeta's done afterwards has managed to close the gap -- in fact, the lurid gossip about his many Capitol liaisons have only served to widen it.

And then, there are the Seam women, the ones he's used. Peeta regrets that weakness in his character. His mother tells him it's high time he should think of marrying a good Merchant girl. She calls him insolent, arrogant. He's been called worse by her, her words mean almost nothing to him. Peeta's done many things, but everything he's done was what he needed to do to survive. He's not going to apologize for any of it. Least of all, to his mother.

* * * * *

It's the third Wednesday of February. It's early; the bakery hasn't yet opened for business. Peeta knows that his father and at least one of his brothers will be working, preparing that day's batch of bread.

"Peeta!" his father says, as his youngest son enters the bakery. He embraces Peeta warmly. Then he pulls back and looks intently at Peeta's face. "Everything all right?"

Peeta nods. "Good! Good!" his father says. "Your mother's upstairs. I'm afraid this cold doesn't do too much for her arthritis."

"I have something I need to discuss with you," Peeta says. "Privately."

His father looks at him. "Let's talk in the back," he says.

Peeta nods.

"Rye's here," his father says. "But he'll be leaving as soon as the last batch of croissants go in. His wife made him promise to help her with the kids today."

Peeta smirks. Rye has two rambunctious little boys, both under the age of four. There are times when Peeta is grateful he doesn't have a family of his own.

Rye gives Peeta a wan smile. From the fatigue etched under his eyes, he isn't looking forward to the day ahead.

"Why don't you get going, Rye," his father says. "I'm sure Peeta won't mind doing clean-up."

"You sure, Peet?" Rye says. "Wouldn't want you to dirty your precious Victor hands with this mess."

There is an undercurrent of resentment in his brother's tone.

"Get on out of here," his father says.

Rye doesn't need to be told twice. When the door shuts firmly behind him, Peeta's father immediately turns and says, "Now, what's this about, Peeta? You have my full attention."

Peeta sees a touch of weariness as well as worry in his father's eyes. For a moment he thinks he understands what his father is expecting him to say: that he's gotten some woman into trouble. His father doesn't know what the Capitol's done to Peeta to make sure this never happens.

Instead of answering right away, Peeta walks up to the kitchen table and pulls out a chair. His father does likewise. Father and son rest their elbows on the worn table and lean their heads close.

"It's about doing what's right, Dad," Peeta says. "It's about me doing what I can afford to do. Here. For 12."

"Peeta," his father says, a note of caution in his voice. "Why get involved? You have enough -- more than enough -- to do over there."

"But I don't care about over there," Peeta insists. "I care about here. 12 is my home. And I plan to retire here."

His father looks skeptical. "What exactly did you have in mind?"

"I have a couple of ideas. But I wanted to talk them over with you first. Take things slowly. See what you think."

Peeta's heard stories of his father and Katniss's mother. District 12 is a small place, and the story of what happened when Larkspur Everdeen ran off with a miner is one of its juiciest. He's also noticed how, over the years, his mother has flung particular vitriol at the Everdeens and reserves her choicest insults for "those Everdeen women."

Peeta and his mother were never close; he's never been able to forgive her for the horrendous treatment, the bruises she so regularly delivered. After winning his games and becoming a Victor, he considered turning his back on 12, of building a new life for himself, far away. There was nothing stopping him, and he deserved it, my God.

But as it turns out, and in spite of everything, he only wants to come home.

Almost an hour later, they hear footsteps on the stairs. Peeta hears his mother's voice call out, "Bran, where are you? The bakery should have been opened by now. Who's that you're talking to?" Peeta stiffens.

He's just shared many things with his father, but it isn't even close to revealing everything that is in his heart. He still doesn't know much about the Seam; who better to enlighten him than his own father, whose life since Katniss's mother left him seems like one long, regretful sigh?

With Peeta's attention directed elsewhere, his father takes the opportunity to study his son's face. What he sees there makes him reach across the table and grasp his son's hand. "I should have told you this a long time ago," Peeta's father says."I don't know why I didn't. I suppose it's because your mother's always found a way to keep my mind completely occupied. But -- a father couldn't have asked for a better son. I'm very, very proud of you."


	9. IT'S BEEN SO LONG: PEETA AND KATNISS

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A very short chapter.

The winter passes. The Seam endures. Peeta receives word that he is wanted back at the Capitol, his heart sinks.

In early March, a week before he has to leave 12, he goes to the meadow, wanting to be alone with his thoughts. That's when he sees her. A slight, solitary figure, standing alone there. His heart starts a strange rhythm in his chest. He approaches warily, but she doesn't move. He knows she hears him; he's never had that hunter's stealthiness that she and Gale had.

As he gets closer, he hears what she is doing: she's singing a song. It's the one she sang all those years ago in school, when they were five.

When Peeta's only a few feet away, she stops. He waits for her to turn. To look at him.

When she eventually does, her gaze is burning. Those silver eyes, how long has it been since they've looked so intently on him? When she averts her gaze, he feels lost.

"Looks like winter might be over at last," he says.

"We always make it through," she says.

"I saw you hunt. I saw you bring that buck out of the forest. Don't try that again. If you're caught, they won't hesitate to put you in the whipping post. Or worse, hand you over to Cray."

She huffs and turns away from him. Neither of them have prepared for this moment. And it's too much. Too overwhelming for both.

Finally, Peeta says, softly, "Why won't you let me help you, Katniss? I know you remember. I know you do."

“What makes you so sure?” she says.

He pauses. He'll prolong this moment as long as he can. “My ring. You never gave it back.”

“I might have sold it. Pawned it for food at the Hob.”

“But you didn’t.”

“How do you know what I did with it? I might have given it away to someone who needed it more than me.”

“No. A ring like that. I’d have heard about it.”

“You’re so sure of yourself. Why didn’t you say anything before now?”

“I didn’t think you wanted me to. I knew you had your reasons. It hurt when you chose Gale, but in a way I knew. You were just trying to protect me, weren’t you?”

Katniss turns and starts to walk away.

“Weren’t you?”

She doesn’t answer. And that is how Peeta knows.

“Hey!” he calls out.

She stops, but doesn’t turn around.

“Here.” Peeta flips the coin over her head. It doesn’t even touch the ground. He smiles.

“Just so we're clear: I never saw you,” she says, over her shoulder.

“That’s right. You never saw me,” Peeta says.

"I was never here."

"You were never here," Peeta says.

But when she points her steps towards the Seam, he follows her. How can he not?

She stops again. “You still here?” She seems to expect an answer.

“Always.”

This time, although her back is still turned, he swears he can almost feel her smiling.

In the distance, he sees the roofs of the town.

“We should stop meeting like this,” he says. He hopes she understands it's a joke.

When she answers, her voice is different. Huskier. “Yeah, we should.”

And there is such a strange feeling in him now. A feeling of hope. “You happy with him?” Peeta says. He can’t help it. It’s the only question he’s ever really wanted to ask her.

“Don’t go there, Peeta,” she says, without breaking stride. “Just don’t.”

For some reason, it feels almost like old times. Peeta smiles to himself.

He lets her pull away from him, not wanting anyone to see them like this, their bodies so oriented towards each other, even after all these years

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now we come to a SERIOUS WARNING: If you are not comfortable with the intense level of pain this story is inflicting on you (Oh intrepid) reader, it's about to get WORSE. The next chapter is long, too. It's a kind of pivot for all the characters you've been introduced to so far, plus the addition of one crucial character, who's going to be in this story TO THE END. So please, if your heart is already in tatters, I won't hold it against you if you stop reading and turn to much lighter fare.


	10. A MEETING WITH SNOW

Snow explains the system to the newest Victor, Darna, the girl from One: "The system is rather straightforward. I need a certain amount of money, and you shall procure it for me. You will offer your body to someone, I receive payment. Of course you'll receive the standard commission of 15%. The balance will be deposited directly into your account. Minus a few taxes, of course."

The beauty from One nods, if a little shakily.

Snow takes a gold coin from a drawer and holds it up. Darna stares at it, with a rather glazed look. She's hardly slept since the end of her Victory Tour.

"Don't worry your pretty little head, my dear," Snow says. "You have the ichor of capitalism flowing in your veins. I saw it from the start. You will do beautifully."

"How long?" Darna asks.

"The standard length of service is 10 years," Snow says.

He flips the gold coin at her. She catches it just before it grazes her right cheek. Snow laughs. "Your physical dexterity is -- impressive!" he pronounces. "I must add that to your professional profile. No doubt it will enhance your performance in the bedroom."

A startled look flashes in Darna's eyes. She schools herself but Snow is too quick for her. He's already seen.

He smirks and waves his hand. "Keep the coin. You may go. Stay in your quarters and wait. You will have a very special visitor tonight. A private -- hmmm, how shall I put it -- tutorial. From one of the best."

Darna closes her eyes. When she opens them again, her expression is hard.

"Now go, my dear," Snow says. "Someone will be along shortly to help you undress. You might even get a new set of lingerie out of this."

Snow smirks as he watches Darna leave the room. He knows just who he'll have break her in. A Victor with a known predilection for lithe, dark-haired women. Darna is more beautiful than any Snow's seen in the last 20 years. The Sponsors apparently agreed. During her games, she received more sponsorship money than any of the Tributes who'd gone before. Snow clinched the deal by matching the Sponsor money with coin of his own. He can already imagine the videos.

The next appointment walks in. Snow leans back in his chair and gives Peeta his most welcoming smile. Snow had him taken straight from the train station by Peacekeepers. If the Victor felt any surprise, he assuredly did not show it.

The first thing Snow notices is that Peeta looks -- different. There's a spark. Snow knows Peeta's habit of helping himself to the liquor available to him on the train, a behavior he's no doubt copied from his mentor, Haymitch. Today, however, Peeta's eyes are remarkably clear. Curious.

Peeta greets him politely and settles himself on the chair Snow indicates.

Snow smiles and shakes his head. So well-trained, this Victor is. Snow permits himself a close scrutiny of Peeta's body. Peeta doesn't blink. How Snow misses the boy when he is away from the Capitol! He must find a way to keep Peeta in the Capitol year-round.

"How are things back in 12?" Snow inquires.

 _How much longer must I endure this charade_ , Peeta thinks. Instead, he gives Snow a nonchalant shrug, even manages a tight smile. "Miserable as ever. I'm glad to be back."

Snow smirks. _The Victor certainly has a most convincing way of lying!_ "And your family?" Snow asks.

"Doing just fine," Peeta says evenly. "My mother's a bit stressed with the Seam brats -- there seem to be a lot more of them hanging about the town -- but other than that, everyone is well." After a moment, he adds, "Thank you for asking."

"And the bakery? How's business? Good, I hope?" Snow continues.

"Oh, very good," Peeta says.

"Remind me: how long has the business been in your family?"

Peeta hesitates. This line of questioning is unexpected. "My great-grandfather started it," Peeta says, finally.

"Indeed," Snow says. "How fortunate that your two older brothers have proved so adept at the business. With them around, your parents surely don't mind your being away in the Capitol so much. They might even welcome it -- as a means of diversification!" Snow ends up cackling.

Peeta is silent.

"Well, Mr. Mellark, my time is precious so let's cut to the chase. Did you see the Victor who left my office just now? As you were entering?"

"Yes," Peeta says.

"A beautiful girl, wouldn't you agree? And so brave."

Peeta is silent. There is a tension, though, in his hands. They're no longer resting easily on his thighs.

"I have been thinking that, this season, we ought to broaden your services. Try something new. You know how easily bored Capitolites are."

"Something new . . . " Peeta says. "You mean, involving the new Victor and me?"

"Oh you are very quick, Mr. Mellark. Very quick indeed! All will be revealed in good time."

Peeta takes a deep breath. If he refuses, the girl will be paired anyway. And most of the other male Victors are cruel. He nods.

 _There really is something new in his eyes_ , Snow thinks. "About that petition of yours," Snow says. I am not sure you have thought the matter over thoroughly."

"I have," Peeta said.

"I wonder -- how you will spend the rest of your time, if I agree to retire you? Will you be setting up house here in the Capitol? Since we both know how much you enjoy the sex."

Snow thinks he detects a slight cringe in Peeta's features. But nothing else.

"I would find useful work," Peeta says.

"Work? What kind of work? Surely you don't mean -- physical work."

"Baking."

"How quaint," Snow remarks.

"It's a family tradition," Peeta says.

"Mr. Mellark, you are in your prime, obviously you are one of the most desirable Victors in the system. Why should I grant your request? It would mean forfeiting the significant lucre generated by your -- services. Still, I am not completely heartless. With this new Victor -- she is young, only 17, and exceedingly beautiful, which is why bids for her are skyrocketing -- because of that, I've decided that you will be permitted to retire -- but only after the satisfactory completion of two more seasons. During those two seasons, you and Darna will perform a certain number of times. I think it will be a delightful pairing. Two years will pass in no time. What do you say? It truly is, as I'm sure you agree, a generous offer."

Peeta takes a long, shuddering breath. "Two years," he repeats slowly.

"That is my final offer, Mr. Mellark. I'd like to have your answer now, if you don't mind. To a young man such as yourself, what is two years? A mere drop in the ocean of time. Wouldn't you agree?"

Peeta nods. He says, "Thank you . . . you're being most generous."

Snow says, "Oh, I'm not doing this out of generosity, my dear boy. The new Victor needs training, and who better than you? I could have asked Finnick, but I do think you are a better fit. Train her well. I want her to know every single position, every possible technique, every manner of seduction. Do that, and you can have your wish: You will be released from your trade in two years."

* * * * *

After Peeta leaves, Snow rubs his hands together gleefully.

"Salandra!" he calls to the shadows behind him.

"Yes, President," says a voice.

"Were the roses delivered to the new Victor's suite?"

"Yes, President. This morning."

"Excellent. Now, have them send along dinner for two. And make sure to include at least three bottles of the 2054 Baroness Roederer vintage. Mr. Mellark is on his way. I want everything to be ready when he shows up. This is going to be a most interesting night."

* * * * *

Once back in his suite, Snow pulls out Peeta's file. He reads the additional material provided by Mr. Talon, recently deceased. He re-reads the section on Peeta's family: his shrewish mother, his depressed father, his two older brothers who were both champion wrestlers in school, their wives, their children.

About halfway through the report is the first mention of the Seam woman: father a miner, deceased. Mother, once the betrothed of Peeta's father, and a well-respected healer in the community. Younger sister who, in physical appearance as well as character, resembles Peeta more than she does anyone else in her immediate family.

"Ah, see here, see here," Snow says, to no one in particular.

Then he switches on the video feed to Darna's room.

Snow spends almost the entire night -- into the dawn hours -- watching


	11. CAPITOL BROADCAST, MANDATORY VIEWING

The long night is finally over. Once Peeta's back in his room, he reaches for an unopened bottle of whiskey and almost drains it. Disgust fills him.

He takes a long shower.

He hasn't seen Finnick yet. Every minute since his arrival has been carefully programmed, almost as if someone is deliberately trying to keep the two men apart from each other for as long as possible.

Peeta is a natural skeptic. Even, on occasion, paranoid. He recalls his conversation with Snow. He can't shake the feeling that Snow knows something more about him, something he's holding close for the moment.

Since his first year working in the Capitol, all the way up to the previous night, his conversations with Snow have mostly been confined to superficial pleasantries. That the President has recently shown a more particular interest in him, and not only in him personally but also in his family, is cause for perturbation -- even, alarm.

And what of her, Katniss? Of the two of them, she's always been the stronger one. He and she both know full well the consequences of displaying their feelings openly. He, a Victor, and she, a poor Seam girl. Her marrying Gale was a purely selfless act. It broke her, it broke Peeta, it might even have broken Gale. But it kept Peeta alive.

Peeta badly wants to talk to Finnick.

Too exhausted to sleep, he flicks on the TV. It takes up almost the entire wall, directly across from his bed. What he sees is the face of President Snow, in close-up.

Peeta's first instinct is to turn it off, but his eyes suddenly land on the words marching in big block letters across the lower part of the screen:

RE-BROADCAST OF LAST NIGHT'S STATE OF PANEM ADDRESS

Peeta missed it entirely. He was with Darna, on Snow's express orders.

He turns up the volume.

Snow says, _For some time now, there has been growing evidence, especially in outlying districts of_ _Panem, of the existence of certain illegal organizations._

Peeta finally understands.

He wonders what people back in 12 must have thought as they listened to this exact same speech last night. He imagines the looks on their faces as they gathered around, watching. And, he can't help it, he begins to tremble.

* * * * *

Peeta manages to fall into a fitful sleep, close to evening. He's awakened by the insistent ringing of the phone. It's the one on the nightstand, the one that's the direct line to Snow.

Snow's voice is sibilant: "Mr. Mellark, how was last night?"

Peeta says, "It went well." His mind is racing.

"And how was the synergy?" Snow asks.

"The synergy?" Peeta repeats. He feels as if he is sleepwalking.

"Yes, the synergy. Between you and the new Victor."

"Oh. Yes, she's --" Peeta says. He scowls, tries to pick his words carefully. "She's generous."

Snow's laugh is raucous. "Mr. Mellark," he says. "You are entirely too circumspect. If I were to ask her, she would probably call last night the most degrading of her entire life."

"I assure you the pleasure was mutual," Peeta says.

"Well, well, I am certain we will have ample opportunity to continue on this topic -- in the next two years," Snow says. "You've seen the broadcast, I presume."

Peeta says, "Yes."

"And? What did you think?"

Peeta knows: the last thing Snow wants is for anyone to think. He knows his opinion doesn't count. What, exactly, is Snow's game? Peeta's sick of everything. He almost blurts out, _What do you want?_

"Well, Mr. Mellark, I seem to have rendered you speechless," Snow says. "I know you'd rather not give an opinion at this moment. Perhaps you'd rather return to Darna's suite? A little more of her generosity will undoubtedly loosen your tongue."

The call ends.

Peeta's almost certain: his name has wound up on a list somewhere.

Luck carried him through his games, certainly. But luck runs out eventually. It always does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NEXT: Snow and Jaylene scene, so you know what that means. TRIGGER WARNING.
> 
> Thankfully, next chapter is a short one.


	12. SNOW AND JAYLENE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: Snow in his Love Nest

Snow stretches his legs. It's been a most entertaining day. His Panem Address was tape-delayed, and he knew he didn't want Mellark to see it. Not until after he'd been with Darna.

Such a pretty little morsel, the new Victor is. He'd try her himself if he wasn't so disciplined. He never actually sleeps with any of his Victors. Doesn't mean he can't watch, though.

After staying up most of the night watching Darna and Peeta, Snow's in the mood to have a little fun of his own, which is why he calls Jaylene. Now -- especially after placing that call to Peeta -- he feels positively invigorated.

He turns to Jaylene. She pretends to be busy with rolling up her stockings, but he knows she's been listening intently.

He reaches out suddenly and grabs a fistful of her long, dark hair. She gasps.

"Does that excite you, my dear, that I've just been engaged in speaking to your Precious Victor?"

Jaylene flushes. "He is not my Precious Victor."

Snow smiles. "He has all the women in the Capitol panting after him. Including, no doubt, you."

"No," Jaylene breathes, coming close and peppering Snow's neck with kisses.

"Would it please you to have him again? If I ordered it?"

"No," Jaylene says, against Snow's mouth.

"But you have outdone yourself, my dear," Snow says. "Thanks to you I am aware of all of Mr. Mellark's -- sexual predilections."

He can feel Jaylene's lips tremble as she presses them to his neck.

"But how can I be sure?" Snow asks, even as he caresses Jaylene's cheek. "How can I be sure a part of you hasn't succumbed to his charms? After all, feelings can be such -- slippery -- things."

Jaylene doesn't trust herself to answer. Instead, she takes Snow's right earlobe between her lips.

Snow looks up at the ceiling. "There is someone he holds very dear," he says.

"Back in 12?" Jaylene inquired. "He never mentioned any of them by name."

"Yes, well, why would he?" Snow says.

"Want me to find out?" Jaylene says.

Snow smirks. "Tempting offer. But I'm afraid I simply can't allow it," he says.

Jaylene stills.

"I shall never allow you one more night with Mr. Mellark," Snow says. "You clearly harbor feelings for him. It is quite obvious, at least to myself. There is very little -- in fact, nothing – that escapes my notice."

Jaylene snorts loudly. "I don't want him," she says. "He's a dead fuck."

Snow thinks he catches a glimpse of something like disappointment in her eyes.

"By the way," Snow says.

Jaylene pulls back slightly and waits.

"I may have a new assignment for you," Snow says.

"Who?" Jaylene asks.

"A member of the Advisory Council. I haven't decided yet who," Snow says. "I have a few possibilities."

"Ooooh, what fun," Jaylene exclaims.

"My dear, don't fuck up," Snow says.

"I won't," Jaylene says, coming close and planting a deep kiss on Snow's lips.

"Now, run along, my dear," Snow says. "I have a few things that need taking care of."

"Of course, my love," Jaylene murmurs. "Shall we have dinner together later?"

Snow doesn't reply. He's already clicked on his video feed. Peeta is alone in his suite, looking out over the Capitol. The late winter sun has faded to almost nothing. In Peeta's eyes is an inexpressible longing.

"Get the other Victor," Snow cackles.


	13. CO-CONSPIRATORS

Peeta and Finnick finally meet, almost two weeks into Peeta's latest trip to the Capitol. It's a freezing cold night in a bar on the outskirts of the city, a place frequented by black market purveyors and the poorest class of harlots. But there are spies everywhere, Peeta reminds himself. Even here.

The weather ensures there are few people about, for which Peeta is grateful. And it makes his knit cap, pulled low over his forehead, look like a practical antidote to the cold, rather than an attempt at concealment. Every time he passes a Peacekeeper, his heart races. Thankfully, the few he sees are too busy lamenting night duty on what may yet turn out to be the coldest night of the year.

When he enters the dimly lit bar, Peeta does a quick survey of the room. He spots the other Victor in a booth in a far corner, nursing a drink. Relief floods Peeta; he walks quickly over. The handful of other customers are men too deep into their cups to bother even raising their heads as Peeta threads his way around the tables. Still, he makes sure to make his movements slow, even a little ungainly. He doesn't want to make it appear as if this meeting was planned. Purposefulness, in the Capitol, and especially in this kind of neighborhood, is rare enough to raise suspicions.

"How's it going," Finnick says. But Peeta's not in the mood for small talk. His earlier appointment was singularly unpleasant, and he is tired. He has another appointment the following day. He has a handful of hours to rest.

Finnick is almost 10 years older than Peeta, but it's impossible to tell just by looking at him. He has dazzling green eyes that take in everything around with a penetrating gaze.

Tonight, Peeta notices that Finnick's hair isn't gelled the way it usually is when Peeta sees him. There's even a slight suggestion of stubble on his cheek and jaw. Hasn't he been working? Peeta wonders.

Peeta glances around. He knows he was followed -- he always is -- but he thinks he managed to throw the tail a while back. The place Finnick directed him to is a gritty workers' bar, far from the trendy places patronized by the Capitol's showy citizens.

Finnick can tell that Peeta's on edge, the way his hands clench and un-clench. 

"Snow had me brought to him straight from the train," Peeta tells him.

"No," Finnick says, shaking his head emphatically. "Don't give up, Peeta. You can't give up."

"Don't act like you give a shit, Finnick. You've had years to plan something, and we're still here."

Finnick's job is to gather secrets from his Capitol clients. He recruited Peeta to perform a similar function, a year or two after Peeta became part of Snow's brothel.

"I'm tired. Really tired. I filed a formal petition to retire," Peeta says slowly.

Finnick frowns. This is not good news. Snow will never let Peeta go, Finnick is convinced of that. But, until this year, Peeta acted the part of a sex addict so well that the surveillance on him had loosened up a tiny bit.

"Six months ago. Sorry I forgot to mention." Peeta gives a bitter smile.

"Is he going to let you?"

Peeta takes a deep breath. "Two more years," he says, "then yes."

"I don't think you can last that long, Peeta. Can you? We've got to get you out of the Capitol."

"How?" Peeta says. And then he remembers Darna. He can't leave her behind.

"I'll find you a safe house," Finnick says.

Snow never puts anything in writing, so he won't be bound to honor his verbal promises to Peeta. With Snow, everything is a game. And this one he's playing with Peeta is one that Snow doesn't intend to lose. Peeta has to pretend he trusts Snow. He has to pretend that he regards Snow's promises as golden. Peeta's sick to death of all this.

The two men are silent for a few moments.

"Can you get her out, too?" Peeta asks.

Finnick casts him a sidelong glance. "I can't make any promises, but for your sake -- all right, I'll try. Darna too."

Peeta nods. His relationship with Finnick sometimes gets contentious, but Peeta is grateful for the other man's presence in the Capitol. No, more than grateful. He knows of Finnick's situation, Annie back in Four. He also knows that Finnick doesn't lack for courage. He continues with his duties because it's his way of gathering information, information that will aid the rebellion.

"Is your pairing with Darna going to be a regular thing from now on?" Finnick asks.

Peeta says, "Yes. I keep wondering, why me? Why not you, for example?"

Finnick smirks. "No, thanks. I've got my hands full."

"With horny old men and women," Peeta says.

"Stop," Finnick says. His laugh is unpleasant.

The image of Katniss appears. Peeta straightens. He motions to the bartender.

"That's your sixth," Finnick says pointedly.

"It's better than the alternative," Peeta says.

"You might not believe this," Finnick says softly. "But there _are_ people who care about you."

Finnick watches Peeta's face, sees him struggle to process this statement. Finnick's always respected Peeta's reticence but there are times when he wishes Peeta would just accept his friend's concern and act grateful.

"I'm in danger," Peeta says. "I can feel it. "I probably shouldn't even be drinking this," Peeta says, staring down at his drink. "Remember Clove? Beetee was the last doctor to see Clove alive. She came in, complaining of tightness in her throat. An hour later, she was dead."

"They never do post-mortems on Victors, you know."

"Luckily, Beetee got a good look at her chart before they were able to mess with her medical record. We're running out of time, Finn. I'm running out of time."

"Peeta," Finnick says. "You didn't tell anybody this, did you?"

Peeta shakes his head. "No."

"Not even Darna . . . "

"Of course not." Peeta throws Finnick a disgusted look.

There's suddenly a profound restlessness in Peeta's manner. "Look," he tells Finnick. "I have to go. But here are some more numbers for you."

Finnick glances eagerly over the paper Peeta passes to him. "43," he says. "There are 43 Victors alive and in the Capitol. Of these 43, only 3 can be relied upon." Finnick's face crumbles.

"I'm sorry, I know you were hoping for more. But those three are solid: Enobaria, Johanna, and Wiress."

"Thank you, Peeta, it's good information. You've been a big help to us."

"The source was nervous but, I gave him my Victor Special." Peeta smiles ruefully.

Finnick grasps Peeta's hand. "Hang in there, Peeta. I can't tell you exactly when we can get you out, but it will be soon. We understand you've acquired the woman Jaylene as a regular? Never ever trust her, Peeta. Sources say she's shredded, she's one of Snow's zombies."

"I know," Peeta says. "I'm not stupid. And now, it's time for me to get back to work."

He gets up and starts to walk away.

"Peeta!" Finnick says. "There are two units. Here, in the Capitol. I'm sorry. I should have trusted you."

Peeta returns to the table. "I feel like a dead man. Even if you manage to get me and Darna away, we can't hide out in 12, can we? People know me." Peeta takes a deep breath. "It'll have to be another district."

"I'm sorry, Peeta," Finnick says. "You're right. We can't let you back in 12."

Peeta nods. There's been a change in his face. His eyes look -- dead.

"Maybe we can take her out of 12. Maybe the two of you can be together in another district."

"And the boy?"

"Him, too, of course."

"And the husband?"

"Peeta -- " Finnick starts to say.

"Can things get any more fucked up?"

Peeta throws Finnick a last withering look, turns, and walks away.


	14. THE SPY

Snow has grown very fond of Peeta over the years. He is fond of Peeta's face, the way it looks when he thinks he is alone and not aware of being observed. It still has the softness of youth – that same softness that was there on the day of his reaping. His lips are full, and even without Capitol make-up, they gleam. Snow is not surprised at the fact that Peeta has rapidly overtaken Finnick as the Capitol's most popular escort.

There's another way in which Peeta's face is different from that of the other Victors -- it has gravity. A kind of reticence. If Snow hadn't known about the family bakery, he would have thought Peeta was the son of a statesman. Not a politician, a statesman. One of those who existed long ago, during the time of that philosopher -- Shakelance or Shakepoint or Shakeknife. The one who wrote quaint entertainments called plays which people mis-took for slight romances but which Snow knew very well were really incendiary tales about the good and evil that exists in all people.

Money does not tempt Peeta; it is useless to throw coin at him, as so many have suggested. Look at the courage he displayed when he filed a formal request to be retired. At the very height of his popularity! And what could Twelve offer him? In Twelve, Peeta would have nothing. No loving wife, no children to dote on. Not even a lover. Nothing.

And yet, that is apparently exactly what Peeta wants.

Since the moment Peeta filed his petition, Snow's been taking a hard look at Peeta's life back in 12. Which is why he engaged the services of Mr. Talon, a spy who had come to him with the highest endorsements. Talon's instructions were to proceed to 12 and to observe the Victor's movements. What Mr. Talon reported back was rather disturbing.

The Victor spent most of his time shut up alone in his house, except for the occasional tryst with a varying array of Seam women. The women were always of a certain type: dark-haired, slender (Mr. Talon put their weight variously at between 95 and 110 lbs., which is to say that all of them were rather slight. And he had no compunction about tapping the same well as the Victor Mellark -- even going so far as to detail certain identifying marks or tattoos which were visible only if every last article of the women's clothing had been removed. The women were rewarded generously for any information)

After a month or so of lurking about 12, Mr. Talon uncovered several very interesting habits of the Victor. Peeta was a regular visitor to the Seam, but not just for the purposes of sexual liaisons. His visits -- almost always late at night -- always had the same destination: down a poorly lit, narrow lane; he always stood and waited in the shadows, looking at one shack in particular.

Talon, excellent spy that he was, began to focus more on the inhabitants of the shack. He discovered that the shack was the home of a miner named Gale Hawthorne, whose wife's name was Katniss. They had one child, a boy, who was very close to his mother. Katniss was protective, keeping an eye on her son even when she was occupied with doing the wash or cleaning up or cooking meals. "Come away from there" was an expression Talon heard her use frequently, several times a day.

At first Talon thought to catch the miner's wife and the Victor in some sort of compromising position. But no, there was never any interaction between them. In fact, as the weeks went on, Talon was convinced that neither the miner's wife nor the miner himself knew anything about the Victor lurking just outside.

Talon also began dropping by an ersatz market called The Hob, and in surreptitious ways he learned that Gale Hawthorne often stopped by for a drink with the other miners before heading home. In fact, many nights Hawthorne's legs appeared none too steady as he stumbled towards home. Many had overheard angry, snarling fights between the couple. Her bitter words always subsided eventually, however. Indeed, there were nights when the anger simply seemed to melt from her the moment her husband took her in his arms.

"They were childhood playmates," Talon wrote on his report. "And were deemed to be headed toward an adult union. When, from out of nowhere, came whispers about a love between the baker's youngest son, Peeta Mellark, and the Seam woman, Katniss Everdeen. Apparently, these rumors only strengthened with every passing year, only to die a swift and sudden death with Mellark's reaping."

It was curious, Snow thought, that the Hawthornes did not have more children. Did Katniss Hawthorne have access to one of those (illegal, yet highly effective) herbal brews that successfully prevented pregnancy? She and her husband apparently enjoyed a robust sex life (The walls of Seam shacks were thin; anyone could hear how frequently the Hawthornes engaged in intimate relations. For that matter, Peeta, standing just outside, would have been privy to every moan and thrust. At this thought, Snow could not resist rubbing his hands together with utmost satisfaction)

Gradually, the report began to assume the shape of a romantic narrative. Snow realized that all too well. In fact, the moment when Talon ceased to be of any further use to Snow was the (to Talon, triumphant) moment when he uncovered Peeta's unrequited yearning for the wife of the miner Gale Hawthorne.

Now, Snow had the knowledge he needed to break this Victor. And break him Snow must, for men like Peeta who act according to their noble intentions are dangerous.

But, no sense in not having a little fun along the way.

Snow set his plan in motion with Darna's win. She resembled the woman from the Seam-- Katniss -- in her darkness and physicality. But, so far, things had not gone according to plan. Instead of Peeta falling for Darna, as Snow was certain would happen, each encounter with her had only resulted in making Peeta more guarded. Darna, on the other hand -- in only a month the girl had turned into a lovesick puppy. Snow was annoyed. Supremely annoyed.

She now visits Peeta's suite -- even unbidden -- almost every night. The two then have depressingly inane and circumlocutious conversations, such as the one they are having at the present moment.

Peeta is preparing his dinner -- some simple concoction of noodles and ground beef. Snow has watched him prepare this exact same dish on numerous occasions: apparently it is a dish Peeta associates with his father, who taught him how to make it. His making it now is Snow's clearest indication that he longs for home and the comfort of the familiar. Suddenly, Darna appears breathlessly at Peeta's apartment. Snow himself provided her with the key code; he knows Peeta wasn't expecting her. Snow crosses his arms and leans back in his chair, watching.

Darna simpers at Peeta. She is fetching in a white satin gown that accentuates every curve. She maintains she is anxious and afraid and lonely. Her lips part with barely restrained desire. Snow -- and, naturally, Peeta -- has heard it all before.

Peeta's wearing soft grey sweatpants and a plain white T-shirt. It's his one evening off this week, and it is apparent (to Snow at least), that he has no intention of frittering away the evening engaged in any sort of sexual activity.

Darna takes a peek over Peeta's shoulder, resting her right hand on the back of Peeta's neck as she does so. She inhales deeply.

"Ah, _melanzane_ ," Darna purrs.

"Sorry?" Peeta says, bemused.

"Oh, it's an old word. My father said my grandfather used it all the time. I don't really know what it means. But my father used to say it to my mother, when she indulged him by cooking one of his favorite dishes."

"The things you learn," Peeta chuckles, shaking his head. He reaches for a bottle of wine from a rack on the counter. Darna steps up behind him and presses herself into his back. She puts her head down on his shoulder and almost purrs with satisfaction.

There's a brief silence. Then Darna says, "I need you. So much -- "

Snow sees Peeta shake his head. A warning.

Darna straightens immediately. Her beautiful face is now blank, guarded.

Peeta, Snow thinks, is an excellent teacher.

And Darna is an excellent student, a fast learner. She arranges herself on the couch and slips off her heels. One shoulder of her satin gown is now bare. Peeta looks at her. In the next moment, he's bearing down on her, pushing her back on the couch.

"Ah!" Snow says. "There's my Victor. My precious Victor."


	15. THE HEART OF THE WORLD

Peeta's back in Twelve.

At last! He takes a long, shuddering breath. He's not scheduled to return until after the Reaping, four months from now. Four months in which to dream, to plan. To forget what he is.

The two halves of his life, the Before and After -- every year, the abyss between them seems to yawn wider.

There may come a time when he does not make it, when he'll have lost her for good, and all he'll have left is the memory of her voice singing, that song that's haunted him for most of his life. Since his last conversation with Snow, he's had visions of Peacekeepers coming after him, or perhaps a calamity carefully staged to look like an accident -- perhaps he'd be tossed on the tracks or something gruesome of that nature.

 _My God_ , Peeta thinks. _What is happening to me? I see nothing but danger around me._

All he wants is to be done with that life forever. But something's shifted in the past year. Peeta senses a hardening. He tells himself he has to pay attention.

He uses up a good portion of the train's supply of liquor and it helps him to sleep for the early part of the journey. But, from instinct, he awakens just before the train enters 12.

The train skirts the Seam before pulling into the station. Peeta looks out at the small houses thrown up higgledy-piggledy. He thinks he can just make out Katniss's home. A brownish pall hovers above the tumbledown shacks.

 _Let it go_ , Peeta thinks. Why can't he just let it go?

A light rain begins to fall.

The train comes to a shuddering stop.

Haymitch is waiting on the platform.

The older Victor isn't required in the Capitol. He's become unsightly, an embarrassment. On the rare occasions when he shows up in the Capitol, he spends most of his time playing poker in the Capitol Casino. He gambles and loses and no one stops him because he's still wealthy and there is a lot of money left for him to lose. Money's no use, after all, unless it's out of a Victor's pockets and spread around.

There's a small band waiting on the station platform. As soon as Peeta exits the train, it strikes up a tinny tune, the musicians giving an extra flourish to their motions as soon as they see Peeta turn his head in their direction.

Peeta grits his teeth. He's expected to tip generously, and he does. But almost as soon as Haymitch and he exit the station, they're surrounded by a group of little boys, who grasp at Peeta's clothes with hands outstretched. Haymitch snarls something and gruffly waves them off.

The shortest path to Victors Village leads directly through the town. People touch their caps politely in acknowledgment of the Victors' passing but no one has any real warmth in the smiles they direct at him.

Unexpectedly, Haymitch's stomach emits a loud growl. Peeta laughs. It feels good. "Dinner, Haymitch?" he asks.

"Sure! You're cooking, though," Haymitch says with a smirk.

Thankfully, Haymitch doesn't ask about the stunning new Victor from One. He knows what the magazines are saying: that he and Darna have been gifted a magnificent house by Snow, in consecration of their pairing. That she is already carrying his child. Her parents have been on Flickerman. "Yes, we know he is eight years older," Darna's mother says during the televised interview. "But the heart wants what it wants." She simpers, Peeta cringes.

* * * * *

It feels good to be back in his own kitchen again. There's no meat in Peeta's freezer, but Haymitch says he has some dried squirrel meat (Peeta raises his eyebrows at that but says nothing) and goes over to his own house to get it. He returns with the squirrel meat, a couple of eggs, and a bottle of white liquor, looking mighty proud of himself. It doesn't take long for Peeta to whip up something, and then the two men decide to sip their tea outside, enjoying their full bellies and the light of a deepening evening.

There are a few scrawny plum trees at the edge of Peeta's property. They haven't come properly into leaf yet, so the view they gaze at is rather desolate. Victors Village feels eerily still. (We're ghosts, Peeta thinks. We leave nothing behind us) Over there, winter-damaged trees, mud, a crooked wooden fence that tilts more and more each year. Peeta hasn't been motivated enough to straighten the warped timber; it's not as if he has neighbors around to complain. There's only Haymitch, and Haymitch is too drunk most of the time to care.

Peeta suspects boys come here at night -- they scale the fence, look in the windows of his empty house. Perhaps they bring some girls along, to pass the time. It doesn't offend him, the thought of what they might be doing on his porch. In fact, he rather likes that his house is of some use when he's away. He looks over at the other, empty houses. He's never bothered to check, but he guesses they might be good dwelling places for people who aren't afraid to pick a lock or break a window. Cray's men make infrequent patrols of this area. Peeta sometimes thinks he sees shadows moving around in them.

How long have these particular houses been standing? As long as the Games, probably. While out there in the Seam, people have nothing: they freeze or they starve. When word gets out that Peeta is home, he is sure to expect a few Seam women to come to his door, if not tonight then on the following nights. Given the choice between him and Cray, they would come to him first. He is more generous, and he can be a vigorous lover. Tender, too, if need be.

He’s just thought of something else to add to his list.

If some way could be found to put those houses in Victors Village to use. Open them up somehow. For the homeless. The orphans. Get them off the streets in the winter. He decides to keep this thought to himself for the moment.

He debates the wisdom of sharing with Haymitch the list of things he's thought of initiating in 12. He remembers his father looking over the list and asking, in a voice heavy with doubt, "Son, are you thinking of running for public office?" He knows what his father is thinking: it wouldn't be a very welcome move. At the very least, it would annoy Cray. He would no doubt see it as a challenge to his authority. And Cray is a man who's shown, time and time again, that he won't hesitate to play ugly.

It's not a very long list, and Peeta's memorized each item by heart. It was twice as long before the talk he had with his father, months ago.

"Haymitch, what would you think if -- " Peeta starts to say.

"Boy, don't fill my head with malarkey just after you've finished demonstrating your fine culinary skills," Haymitch scoffs. "I don't want to hear a thing about whatever it is. Don't waste your breath."

Peeta smiles. Haymitch knows him too well. "Now," Haymitch says, "What do you say we open that bottle of the Hob's finest product to go with our meal?"


	16. CHEESE BUNS

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU so much for reading.
> 
> The response has been more than I could have hoped, considering material this dark.

Next morning, early, Peeta walks to the bakery. He misses family, despite the tension with his mother. Or perhaps it's really more the idea of family that Peeta misses. After the long, lonely months he's forced to spend in the Capitol every year, he can't wait to be with people he's connected to by blood and bone and long memories, no matter how painful those memories are.

He's bringing a few toys for his nephews: the Capitol always has the latest doo-dads. Stuffed animals that glow and sing and dance. One that, at the push of a button, plays a version of the Capitol's current hit song. Puzzles. Shiny, glittery balls. For his father, he brings rich plum brandy. For his mother -- yes, even for her -- Peeta brings a box of spicy chocolate truffles. Over the years, he's learned that it's one of the few things from the Capitol his mother absolutely craves. And why not, Peeta thinks. When a box of them costs no more than a gold coin, and the gift seems to make life easier for his father, at least for a week or so.

He knows what his family thinks of him: guilt and shame mixed together, and a slight contemptuousness. Perhaps even a bit of jealousy. They know nothing, of course, of what he's had to give up. They think it's Peeta's choice to live in the Capitol half the year, bedding rich Capitolites and enjoying the finest liquor.

He pushes the distracting thoughts away. He doesn't have time for that now. It's never mattered, what they think of him.

He's spoken with his father about expanding the bakery -- putting in chairs and tables so that people can sit and relax while they have their coffee or tea. Expand the menu. Savory pies would be good and -- who would his father trade with for the meat? It would have to be with one of the hunters from the Seam, yes it would.

His father stills. "Son," he says, "Is this -- all of this -- because of her?"

Classmates in school. That was a long time ago now, Peeta. Singing of The Valley Song. Knowing his father loved her mother once. Watching Gale get closer. Himself being reaped. Working. The Capitol. Seeing her occasionally in the Town or at The Hob. Feeling fresh desire. Knowing Gale's temper. Witnessing Gale's temper. The scrawny-necked little boy who calls her Mother. The hard winter.

"She's not," Peeta says. He was expecting the question; his answer is immediate. Though the rebuttal might sound, to someone who knows Peeta as well as his father does, a little rehearsed.

"Well," Peeta's father says, knowing they can't -- mustn't -- stay on the subject. "It's been a long winter. Harder on the Seam, of course."

Peeta knows.

"We had a little orphan girl in to help. Name of Sally. About nine, ten years old. Quiet little thing. After a week, she never came back. Your mother swears she stole the pocket mirror that your mother liked to keep down here, the one she used to freshen up between customers. Wanted to press charges. I managed to dissuade her."

Peeta and his father exchange rueful smiles. Finally Peeta asks, softly, "Anyone from the Seam come in lately?"

His father scoffs. "You know they don't like coming here. They have little love for your mother or, for that matter, anything merchant. But that miner, Gale Hawthorne, came last week. Come to think of it, he came the week before, as well. "

 _That miner._ Peeta's jaw clenches.

"He comes by with his son," Peeta's father says. "More often now, come to think of it. Mentioned Katniss was sick. She's on the mend, but still can't get around too much. I gave Hawthorne about half a dozen cheese buns to take home to her. Saw him a few days later and he said she loved them."

"That little boy's awfully tiny," his father continues. "But since I started delivering day-olds to Greasy Sae, he seems to have put on a little more weight. And he's really quite a smart little boy. Seems to notice everything. Takes after his mother that way, I guess. I mentioned to Hawthorne that I could use some help with the washing and the cleaning up in the kitchen. It would only mean an hour or two a day and the boy could come straight after school and on weekends. It would keep the boy out of the cold, at the very least. His mother could help out, too, if she were willing. Hawthorne said he'd mention it to his wife."

Peeta nods. He is supremely grateful to his father.

His mother comes through the door, moving more stiffly now than she used to, but her presence still sends a trill of alarm through Peeta. He knows she hates the Seam, and anything of and from there. He hopes she didn't hear his father going on about Katniss's boy. His mother suspects what his father knows: that Peeta still pines for Katniss, that the years haven't dimmed that want, even though Peeta disguises it well now. One thing he's grateful to Snow for -- the pairing with Darna deflects some of the attention from Katniss. His mother, in fact, wants to hear all about his girlfriend -- the newest Victor, the stunning looker from One. She sits and folds her crooked hands on her lap and raises her voice smugly: "Ah, you thought you'd keep it a secret from us here in 12? We've seen all the pictures, listened to all the interviews. Why didn't you bring her with you? It's not good for two young lovers to be separated for any length of time, that's tempting fate! A girl that beautiful has many admirers. Invite her to visit, Peeta! I'd like to get to know her.

Peeta shakes his head. "It's too soon, Mother," he says. "It's not as if we're engaged or anything. We're just friends."

His mother's laugh is more like a bleat. "Oh, Peeta," she gasps, fake-fanning her chest, "As if I didn't know very well what your appetites are. Your hands are all over her in those pictures from the Capitol."

"Now, now," Peeta's father interjects. "Peeta's just gotten home. Let's not spring all these questions on him. I'm sure if there's more to tell, he'll tell us, in his own good time."

"Listen to your father talk!" Peeta's mother scoffs. "Just listen! As if he himself didn't remark one day, That new Victor's as beautiful as an angel! Oh yes, your father can recognize quality when he sees it."

His father turns away. Peeta distracts his mother by placing the box of truffles on her lap. In her excitement, she immediately tries to rip the box open, which only succeeds in making the box drop to the floor.

"Bran!" she screeches. "Pick that up!"

Peeta bends over and picks up the box. He carefully opens the lid and holds the box out to his mother.

She licks her lips and says, "Just one for now."

Peeta heaves a sigh of relief.

* * * *

A few minutes later, Peeta leaves the bakery. He crosses the middle of town, then slowly makes his way across the meadow, to the tree-line of the woods. Above his head, a clear blue sky with only a thin suggestion of clouds. 12 may be the poorest district in Panem, but that means there are no tall buildings to obstruct the view.

A voice in his head asks, _What are you doing, Peeta?_

He whispers to himself: _I mean to save her. I WILL save her._

He walks doggedly on. He starts reciting the list he resorts to when he needs to keep his mind busy: _bloodroot rockflower bitternut hackberry shagbark pin oak kingnut_

Again that voice: _But are you saving her? Or damning her?_

He ignores it and pushes into the trees.

He knows the woods now. He's learned it. He's made himself learn it.

_Bloodroot rockflower._

She's somewhere close, he knows. He keeps walking.

_Bitternut hackberry._

_He'll drown if he doesn't see her today._

Something whispers his name from the trees.


	17. A MEMORY OF KATNISS

Peeta always wanted to know plants.

When he was growing up, he didn't know the name of a single plant in the forest.

He knew someone who did, though.

Long ago, he had gone with Katniss to the woods.

And she nonchalantly pointed here and there and said: That's blue gum. That's buck brush. That's cat's ear.

He wrote the names down in his sketchbook.

Now, he looks at that list whenever the horror of the Capitol threatens to overwhelm him.

Coffee berry.

Elderberry.

Golden-yarrow.

Hawksbeard.

Hound's Tongue.

Lady's Mantle.

Meadow Rue.

Milkweed.

Mugwort.

Mule Ears.

Needlegrass.

Oatgrass.

Owl's Clover.

Peeta was amazed at the things Katniss held in her head. After a while, he reached for her hand.

She stopped pointing. She merely looked at him. Up and down. Then she began to cry. Because she was in love with Peeta, and he was in love with her, but they couldn't do anything about it.

She didn't wait for him because it would hurt too much.

She promised herself to Gale.

And then she watched him win his Games and come back to 12. He saw her in the crowd at the train station.

"Katniss?" he said, uncertainty tainting his voice.

She didn't answer. Gale curled a heavy arm around her shoulders.

Peeta stiffened and turned away.


	18. NICE SEEING YOU

When Katniss brings Jason to the bakery, Peeta's already waiting by the back door. He extends a hand to Jason and, after a moment's hesitation, the boy puts his small hand into Peeta's large one. "Come inside," Peeta says softly, and Jason nods and lets himself follow, only giving Katniss a hurried glance over his shoulder. "Be good now, Jason!" she calls out. He doesn't respond, but Peeta turns his head and smiles. That smile. It completely unmoors her.

It's the first time she and any of the Mellarks have had dealings with each other in years. In forever.

She always knows when Peeta is back from the Capitol. The gossips at The Hob never tire of telling stories about his latest sexual escapades. Peeta is muscular and broad-backed, blonde and handsome. The years have taken away none of his beauty. More than one Seam wife, Katniss is sure, moans his name in her sleep.

It doesn't take long for the stories about his Capitol sweetheart to circulate; it surprises them whenPeeta shows up at the train station alone. Stella can hardly wait, she goes over to Victors Village that night, but Peeta sends her away. He gives her coin, but he doesn't take her into his bed, and Stella is furious -- she doesn't understand why, after all these years. She usually has him first, for a couple of nights. She goes back the following night, and again he sends her away with another coin for her trouble. That's two trips she's made out there now -- two trips! And she only has the one pair of good shoes. Peeta Mellark is a new man, apparently. Stella says this in a loud voice tinged with hatred. She is particularly loud when Katniss is around. She knows, doesn't she? Yes, Stella knows. About Peeta and Katniss before. She remembers the gossip that had gone round and round: _That bitch thinks she's too good for a Seam man. Let's see how far she gets with the baker's son. He ain't never going to marry her._

 _Shut your mouth, Stella_ , Katniss thinks. _You just shut your mouth or I'll shut it for you._

The last time Katniss and Peeta were together was the night before his Reaping. They'd kissed and kissed and kissed until they were both on fire and hungry for more. She could have stopped him. His belt already unfastened, him nestled between her legs, she wet and moaning, she thought, Once, just once. Afterwards, fear shot through her. What if Peeta wanted more? When she heard his name called at the Reaping, he looked at her, just once, before ascending the stage. Everyone saw that look. A low, restless murmuring began to surround Katniss. She closed her eyes.

She couldn't go to him in the Justice Building. She just couldn't. It would have been beyond her to let him go. She would have clawed at the Peacekeepers, screamed her outrage.

A month later, she knew what she had to do. Peeta had won his games, but he was never coming back to her. She had to give herself to Gale.

The girl in the Capitol, Darna -- one day, Katniss finds herself glancing through a Capitol magazine someone abandoned at The Hob. She sees pictures of Peeta, his arm curled around Darna. The girl is a beauty: she's slender and tall, with raven-black hair and milky-white skin. In the magazine, she wears something that wraps tight around her throat but exposes her breasts. Katniss is shocked. A girl that young; how can they dress her up like that? Yet, the girl looks proud. She's fresh off her victory in the Games, she exudes vitality, freshness, hope. She and Peeta are holding hands. They're both smiling.

Katniss feels the burn of jealousy. It spreads and spreads until she almost can't breathe.

She remembers that fall day when she and Gale passed Peeta on the street: she had felt Peeta's eyes on her. Gale was holding her hand. Did she imagine it or did Gale suddenly tighten his grip? She could sense Gale's discomfort, but they couldn't swerve and walk in the other direction because -- here he was, suddenly. And all she could think was: It's him it's him it's him. She dropped her eyes.

That night, Gale took possession of her body with almost an anger. It had hurt; she wasn't prepared. But she bit her lips and refused to cry out.

Peeta returns to the Capitol. More pictures of him and Darna appear. Katniss trades in the Hob and hears the malicious gossip. She wills her face to remain blank.

* * * * *

It's a Saturday when she brings Jason over to the bakery. Business is always good on Saturday, Mr. Mellark says. "We could do with the help." When he sees Katniss hesitate, he adds, "He'll be paid, of course. And fed lunch. All he has to do is clear the kitchen counters as soon as the trays and utensils are ready for washing, keep the floor clean of spills, and fetch things. It's a simple job."

Gale is unhappy with her decision to let Jason work in the bakery, even though the advantages clearly outweigh the disadvantages. Even after Katniss lays it all out for him. She knows Gale's reasons have nothing to do with money or hunger but have everything to do with Katniss, of his ownership of Katniss. She senses some layer of hurt hiding beneath his blustery arguments. But -- pshaw! -- Katniss herself isn't so stupid as to give in to feelings, and she expects Gale to adhere to the same standard. Eventually, he acquiesces, but with bad grace. Katniss knows she will have to make it up to her husband, somehow.

As she walks with Jason to the bakery, Katniss takes particular care to tell him to stay away from Mrs. Mellark. She tells Jason he must never utter a word in Mrs. Mellark's presence. _If Peeta isn't there_ , she tells Jason . . .

There. She's said his name. For the first time in forever. There was a time when she couldn't stop saying it. In spite of the fact that she is holding her son's hand, she flushes.

Jason says, "Mommy? You look funny."

"Stand by Mr. Mellark, _and never leave his side_ ," Katniss says. "Is that clear?"

"Yes, Mommy," Jason says. And then, after a beat, "What's wrong with Mrs. Mellark?"

"She's got a bad temper," Katniss says. "If she ever lifts a hand to you, I'll -- "

She stops. She doesn't want to make Jason fearful.

"Just -- stay away from her," Katniss sighs.

She didn't expect Peeta himself to answer her knock on the back door of the bakery. She notices there's some construction-type work going on in the front. There is sawdust in the air, mingling with the smell of hot cinnamon buns. It makes her dizzy.

Peeta himself is wearing an apron. His forearms have dustings of flour. He looks so -- at home there, not Capitol in any way. She thinks she might be dreaming, is she just imagining the way his gaze catches hers?

She turns her attention to her son. He's staring dumbly up at Peeta, shocked to be in the actual presence of someone he's seen in magazines. He runs his tongue over his lips, a sure sign that he is hungry. Katniss tugs at her son's hand. "Jason, listen to what they tell you, OK? I'll be back in two hours."

Before Peeta can say anything, she walks off. She sensed he was about to invite her in, perhaps offer her a cup of tea. But she won't have that. It's too late now -- a woman her age, a mother -- to have anything so useless as feelings.

The fingers of her right hand wander to her braid. Her hair is thinner now. After she took sick, it never went back to its former fulness. And her face -- oh God, she hates looking at herself in the mirror. She's never prided herself on her looks, but the boy Peeta would look at her so. He'd tell her she was beautiful.

Of course, she never was beautiful. That was just Peeta's desire talking.

"Why do you like me?" she'd asked him once, feverish from his kisses.

He hadn't answered. Instead, he'd chuckled. And kept on kissing her.

She'd put a hand on his chest and pushed, hard.

"Tell me," she said. "I want to know. Why do you like me?"

"You really have no idea?" Peeta had said, his eyes wide with amazement. "The effect you can have?"

And he had no idea either, apparently, about the effect he had on her.

She hadn't pushed him further on the topic. Their time together was always so short. Stolen kisses, that was all they managed. But the heat of his kisses was a memory that Katniss knew would last her a lifetime.

* * * *

A week after Jason starts at the bakery, someone throws a rock through the window. They find the rock in the front, after the glass has been cleared. It's something wrapped in a burlap cloth. It's Peeta who opens it. A large, black lump of coal. He stares at it. They all stare at it. Peeta's mother gives a loud, bitter, incredulous laugh.


	19. HAZE

The ovens flare with an almost primal heat. The boy is both frightened and fascinated. Peeta catches him stretching out his fingers. He very nearly burns his fingers on a searing, hot rack but Peeta sees him just in the nick of time and pulls his hand away. Whenever Peeta's mother screeches -- which is her usual way of speaking, though today she seems to be trying for a louder pitch, no doubt for the boy's benefit -- the boy flinches.

His mother is in particularly high dudgeon all day ("A Seam boy! In the bakery! That we've sunk so low --! Expect we'll lose half our customers now. Thinking of his dirty hands on the bread -- ! Boy, have you washed your hands? Well, someone better make sure he does!"). Slowly but surely, her words wreak havoc on the little boy, and by lunchtime he is mostly in tears, which he tries to hide by swiping his hands quickly across his cheeks. Peeta tries to distract him. He gives the boy chunks of chewy wheat bread, thickly slathered with rich butter. After the first taste, the boy's eyes grow round.

Peeta is near the door when Katniss comes for Jason, later that day. He listens as his father exchanges pleasantries with her.

He hears his father ask if she can spare Jason again, sometime mid-week. Katniss hesitates.

"Of course," Peeta's father says, "You must discuss it first with your husband."

"He can come," Katniss says quickly.

From his hidden vantage point, Peeta smiles.

* * * * *

At first twice a week, then three times, then every other day, Jason comes to the bakery. Peeta waits near the back door until he hears the knock. Their glances meet. Katniss lowers her gaze.

She bends down towards her boy, says something in a low voice and, without looking again at Peeta, quickly walks away.

Only with great difficulty does Peeta drag his eyes from her rapidly retreating form. The child waits patiently, sometimes slipping his hand into Peeta’s. It’s this small, warm hand in his that restores Peeta to the present. He looks down at the boy, at Katniss’s son, at his grave and expectant blue eyes. Something tugs at his memory. It’s almost as if he’s seen the boy somewhere before. But where?

When the morning rush at the bakery is over, Peeta sinks down tiredly on a stool. Jason and his father are somewhere in the back. The boy’s energy never flags; he is full of questions. His father enjoys Jason’s company, the two are great friends now. “He’s a quick learner,” Peeta’s father says. But Peeta can’t keep up a conversation, not when his thoughts are full of Katniss, the sight and scent of her. He’s noted the direction she walks after dropping off her son. At first, he assumed she would head straight back to the Seam, but she never does. Instead, she heads for the forest. Memories rise up, one after the other, painful and heated.

* * * * *

Peeta looks down at his hands. He's back in Victors Village. His father invited him to stay for dinner, but he declined, citing the need to rest.

His nerves are frayed. He takes a long pull of white liquor and contemplates the small pink pill in the palm of his right hand.

The pharmacopeia of stimulants and anti-depressants he has access to in the Capitol would stun anyone in 12, if they knew. In the Capitol, all it takes is one phone call to his doctor and a 30-day dose is sent to him special delivery. The doctor or whoever it is who picks up the call doesn't even care enough to ask the customary questions.

Peeta always takes along a small supply of the pink pills when he goes home to 12. Because there are times, like today, when white liquor just isn't enough.

He's so hazy, he doesn't know how he ends up with the phone in his hand. It's Finnick he calls. Finnick, who's in the Capitol doing double-duty, who hasn't seen his Annie in over six months.

"Finn," he says thickly.

"Peeta," the other man says. "How are things?"

"I'm a bit -- nervy," Peeta says.

"The charming and debonair Peeta Mellark -- nervy?" Finnick laughs. "Women problems?"

Peeta shakes his head before realizing that Finnick can't see him. "I'm a model of virtue. What time is it over there?"

Finnick checks. "A little after 10," he says. "Darna's here."

Peeta's mind stutters.

"No, we didn't have anything going tonight," Finnick says.

"Really?" Peeta says. "Okay, I believe you."

"Besides, I'm a bore. After you, I mean. So why exactly are you calling?" Finnick asks.

"I don't know," Peeta says.

Finnick sighs. "Look, Peeta, I have to go. I have to be up in a few hours. Got a sunrise appointment with a client."

"Would that be the lovely designer?" Peeta asks. "Tally I think she goes by?"

"Well . . . yes," Finnick says.

Peeta snickers. "Will her friend be joining you again?"

"Probably. Good-night," Finnick says, and puts down the phone.

* * * * *

Darna gazes expectantly up at Finnick from the sofa. Her face is devoid of make-up. She'swearing jeans and a T-shirt and looks every bit the 17-year-old she actually is. There's a tense silence.

"He's fine," Finnick says.

"And he called because -- ?"

"I'm not sure," Finnick says, pensively scratching the back of his head.

"I didn't even know he still had family back there," Darna says to herself.

Finally noticing Finnick's absent air, she gets up. "Well, it was fun hanging out," she says. "Thanks for listening. And for the hot toddy."

"Sure, Darna," Finnick says. "Any time."

"If you hear anything more from Peeta . . . " she says. She stills and bites her lower lip, looking for all the world like a worried child. "You must think I'm mad," she says.

Finnick's shoulders slump. He can't do anything for her, she might be as good as gone. And he has to think of Annie. Annie who is going absolutely crazy, back in Four.

He did promise Peeta, though . . .

"Darna, wait!" Finnick says. "I have something that might help. For your nightmares." He reaches into his shirt pocket and pulls out a small vial of pills. He reaches out a hand and says, "Take it."

Darna's eyes, which just moments ago had seemed so despairing, turn cold. She shakes her head at Finnick and slips out without another word.

Half an hour later, Finnick's in bed, just on the edge of sleep, when the video screen in his living room blares to sudden life. Finnick jumps. He rubs his eyes and stumbles to the living room.

On a black video screen, big white block letters announce:

IMPORTANT PUBLIC ADVISORY. MANDATORY VIEWING.

President Snow comes on-screen and begins speaking.

_Citizens,_

_For the last eight hours, our broadcasting system's internal network has been under unprecedented and sustained attack by a group of cowardly saboteurs who go by the name Second Wind. We have reason to believe this was the same group that last year disrupted train service to the districts, interfering with the distribution of vital grain shipments._

_Today, Panem faces a threat more serious than any it has faced in the past century. We have_ _reason to believe that Second Wind was preparing to launch a nation-wide assault targeting_ _hospitals, public transportation, and schools. Such an assault, had it succeeded, would have had_ _catastrophic consequences for many of our most vulnerable citizens._

 _These malcontents have little regard for the sanctity of human life, or for the well-being of the_ _larger community. They are driven purely by a greedy thirst for power. They desire more, always more. More than what they have already, more than they need, more than their neighbours, their friends, their brothers or sisters. They will not cease until they have succeeded in sucking the very life from your bones._

_But Panem will overcome these challenges, as we have done time and time again. We will defend the welfare of our citizens to the very end, and drive these misguided rabble rousers into the sea._

_To the rebels, I have only this to say: Do not under-estimate our power, our will, and our_ _determination._

Scum of the earth, Finnick thinks. He'd never even heard of this so-called Second Wave group. Who were they working with? He wouldn't put it past Snow to have concocted this rebel attack, just so he could throw people in jail and torture them at will . . .

And now, Finnick has no hope of getting any more sleep. The widow will simply have to content herself with a less-than-energetic Finnick, and his eyebags.


	20. ANGER AND AFTER

The wood roses have been blooming for a few weeks now. Katniss thinks she might collect some to put in her tea. Fragrant, pale pink flowers line her path into the woods. She breathes deeply. She wonders if she has the strength to make it to her father's lake. She hasn't been there in so long, not since the onset of winter, months ago.

She pictures it in her head: the glittering, sapphire water; the rushes growing profusely on the banks.

Her cheeks flame with heat -- the heat of Peeta's gaze. She shakes her head, tries to rid herself of the offending image. His eyes, his lips.

Why can't she just forget? Why? Why hasn't he changed? His face is smooth, just the suggestion of a stubble under his chin.

That's a merchant's life for you, she thinks. No, not just a merchant's life. A Victor's life.

She thinks back to the way she was, the way she used to be, at 16. It seems like a dream. Had Peeta and she really kissed? Did she really take him into the forest and show him her father's lake? His words to her that day: "I choose you, Katniss Everdeen." She laughed but something inside her crumbled, just a little. "And I choose you, Peeta Mellark," she told him. He clasped her small hands between his own large, strong ones -- hands she'd thought had something of heaven in them. And he kissed the top of her head and ran his fingers tenderly through her raven-dark hair, hair he told her smelled of earth and smoke.

She was never again as purely happy as she was that year, basking in Peeta's love.

The very next day was the Reaping. And she and Peeta were lost to each other forever.

Katniss shivers at the memories. The woods are lovely, but not for one such as her. Not any longer.

She starts to tremble. She almost turns back. Then she thinks of her son.

She calms herself with the thought that no one knows these woods as well as her. She keeps going.

* * * * *

"I'm putting a stop to this nonsense," Gale yells. "My son is not working there, and that's all I have to say about it."

Katniss crosses her arms in front of her chest. She glares at her husband. She will not back down. He's being unreasonable, and he knows it.

"Why, Gale? What scares you so much about your son working at the bakery?"

"You're a grown woman, Katniss. Stop acting like a teen-ager. You know what people are saying behind our backs at the Hob? They say you sneak off and meet the Victor -- "

Katniss clenches her fists. If Gale were closer, she would slap him. As it is, she wishes she had her bow and arrow in her hands. She wouldn't hesitate to shoot him. That would shut him up.

"I've had enough of this," Katniss says. "It's all silly rumor and gossip. And you, how dare you repeat such -- such filthy rumors? I've been a good and faithful wife to you all these years. I've never so much as once looked at Peeta in that way, not after we were married . . . "

"Oh, I know you're still sweet on him," Gale says. "That day we passed him in the street? You went all white and so did he. That's when you started bringing up this business of Jason working at the bakery. It all started then. What did you do, sneak off to the meadow with him when I was home with Jason?" His face twists in anger and contempt. "Your precious Peeta. He's disgusting. You know how he uses women in the Seam. Ask Stella, she'll tell you what he does."

Katniss hates Gale in this moment. Truly hates him. The memory of Peeta's reaping is the most painful day in her life. It's the day when she had to own up to her own cowardice. It's also the day when she vowed, never again. Never again. She was 16; she was confused. She's not confused now.

She calls out, "Jason!" She's going to take him to her mother's in 8. It's better for him there. As for herself, not for one minute longer is she going to stay under Gale's roof. She looks around when her child doesn't answer. Only then does she realize there's no one in the bedroom, just she and Gale. Panic blooms in her chest. "Jason -- " she says his name tremulously. He must have slipped out while she and Gale were fighting.

The front door swings open. She and Gale stare at it, as if hypnotized. Hazelle, Gale's mother, stands there, her eyes filled with tears. Jason stands next to her, clutching tightly at her skirt.

"What are you doing here?" Katniss murmurs, shocked.

"Jason called me," Hazelle says. "He was scared. I've been listening outside, wanting to give the both of you a chance to settle down. But . . . " She breaks off and walks up to Gale. She takes his face between her hands. "You've got to stop this. You were never like this, never like this, I didn't raise you to be like this. You're a good man . . . "


	21. THE HUNT

Katniss watches a red-tailed hawk sail higher, higher, higher into the tree-tops. After several beats, it's joined by another. She watches them sourly. There they go, flying way way up over the trees, towards a distant goal over the horizon, something only the pair can see.

Her mood is black as pitch.

He's going soon. What's left for her? Her marriage feels like tinder -- dry and volatile.

Suddenly, this trip to the forest feels like a betrayal, a reminder of all the promises she's made that she can't keep.

Thank God for Mr. Mellark, Peeta's father. He is kind, and Katniss realizes it's kindness she misses. Ever since her mother and Prim moved to 8, because Prim's husband is from there.

Her mother-in-law, Hazelle, is kind as well.

And Peeta . . . everyone knows about Gale's black moods, except for him.

The hawks circle back. Are they husband and wife, Katniss wonders? How companionable it must be, to soar together. To hunt together. To take comfort in the warmth of each other.

Katniss watches with a heavy heart. Her thoughts go round and round.

* * * * *

Jason has bread to bring home. The Mellark bread is to die for. She grimaces at the macabre turn of phrase, but somehow it sticks in her head. Take two slices of their hearty wheat bread, slap some fried squirrel meat in between, layer with lettuce and some savory dressing, one of Peeta's concoctions, and her boy dreams about it. Peeta even gave it a name, just for him, he tells his mother proudly: Jason's Special.

Oh, Katniss is dreaming. She is lost. The invitations to stay for a cup of tea, the warmth of the bakery reminding her of another kind of heat. The human body is a strange thing, the way it stores memory, how hers remembers every touch of Peeta's, even if all they do is brush hands. She can't help a smile forming on her lips when she sees him, and his eyes automatically go there, and no no no!

Katniss knows she'll wake up before long. But, she thinks, not yet. Not yet.

* * * * *

Katniss takes Jason to the bakery. Peeta answers the door. It's been like this for six weeks now.

Their conversation is always polite. He insists she come in and have coffee. She says she has to go. She curses her uncommon weakness for not being more firm, he is always able to get her inside the bakery on some pretext or other. No wonder Gale is furious. Her face burns, every time Peeta looks at her.

He's experienced now. He has all those women. He knows, she thinks. Then she lifts her chin proudly. So what if Peeta knows?

"Where do you think we should put this?" he asks Rye now. It's an enormous wedding cake. He spent most of last night finishing it.

"Out front," Rye says. "Where everyone can see. It's truly magnificent, Peeta. You've outdone  
yourself."

Today, there's something different. About him, or about herself? She hopes Peeta doesn't see -- the blue shadows under her eyes, the puffiness of her lids. She keeps her head down, for the most part.

She feels Jason tug at her hand.

"What?" she says, impatiently.

Then she hears it -- Peeta's voice, asking her if everything's all right. She nods quickly. "Yes!" She bends down to her son. "I'll be back for you at the usual time, OK? And try not to eat too many of those cheese buns!"

Jason nods.

Katniss pats his head: "Be a good boy now!"

"I'm always good," Jason says.

She's just turning away when she hears Peeta say, "Things okay at home?"

And she stiffens. "Yes," she says evenly. Then walks quickly out the door.

She is furious, furious at Peeta for asking the question. For showing any kind of concern. It makes her feel weak.

"Wait!" Peeta calls. He's coming after her, something wrapped in his hands. "I had this ready for you, but you left too quickly."

Oh, Peeta. She stops. Now everyone can see their exchange. She puts out a hand, he passes her the package. They don't touch, but -- "You're not getting enough sleep," he says.

She gapes at him. Peeta laughs. That laugh -- she hasn't heard it in so long. "Well, have a good day," he says. He turns quickly and heads back to the bakery.

* * * *

Jason is so happy when she picks him up at the bakery, later that day. If he were a dog, he'd be wagging his tail.

"Peeta taught me how to make cheese buns!" he tells Katniss.

She looks quickly at Peeta. He nods in confirmation.

"You can tell me all about it while we walk home," she tells her son.

Jason skips to her, slipping his small, warm hand into her cold one. Peeta is silent. Almost too. She glances quickly at him and wishes she hadn't. Peeta is looking at her. Looking at her with that blueburning gaze. He didn't expect her to turn, to look back. Is that always how he looks at her, when she leaves with Jason? Is that why he always insists she come in, hanging back to make sure the back door doesn't slam on her heels, is that why he does it, so he can look at her in secret, her braid, her body?

She shivers, she can't help it. It _is_ Peeta, after all.


	22. TROUBLE

Peeta's kept in touch with Finnick, all through the winter and spring. Finnick is his life-line. Peeta talks about his painting, or the weather, and Finnick talks about fishing and about swimming. They know their lines are tapped, but they still take pleasure in knowing how the other is doing.

In April, Finnick tells Peeta that he's building himself a boat.

"How big?" Peeta asks.

"As big as I can make it," Finnick says. "50 feet? I have local help."

Peeta is happy for him. The last time Finnick was home, he barely got to look at the ocean before he got called back. He'd been home less than a week.

Peeta asks Finnick when he thinks his boat will be ready and Finnick tells him, probably a year. Then they're both silent. They've heard the rumors that Snow wants all the Victors -- even the nonworking ones -- to spend six months of every year in the Capitol. Which means, for desirable Victors like Finnick and Peeta, more work, naturally. And, Peeta knows, further humiliations.

As the weather warms, Peeta's disquiet deepens. The Reaping looms.

* * * * *

Spring is a strangely foreshortened season in 12. Everything exists for "after the Reaping." Teenagers pair up at a brisker pace, especially around the slag heap.

Peeta worries more than he usually does, because of Katniss. He's been careful. There has been absolutely no whisper of scandal anyone can attach to their interactions. Dropping Jason off and picking him up: what could anyone construe from that?

Then he remembers: Since when did Snow ever consider proof a pre-requisite for making an accusation? And once an accusation is made, punishment is swift. Peeta cannot bear the thought of harm coming to anyone because of him. His suffering must be his alone.

He starts to imagine a shadow dogging his steps. As the days lengthen, the shadow seems to be growing bolder. At first, 30 paces behind, now 20. Peeta becomes jumpy. If Katniss notices, she doesn't say anything. Yet she comes everyday, bringing Jason.

Katniss's birthday is in early May. Peeta considers what to give her. Nothing personal. Nothing that can damn her. Or him.

He gives a quick glance behind him, and enters the bakery. He hasn't been there more than five minutes when he gets the distinct feeling that something is wrong. The clock over the kitchen sink says 6:16. Something twists in his gut.

He opens the back door to the bakery and steps inside. He's just closing the door behind him when something comes hurtling through, catching Peeta off-guard. He's knocked off his feet and lands on the floor with a hard thud. The blood rushes to his head. An assassin! Sent by Snow! He's sure of it. Until he catches a glimpse of his assailant's face. Gale!

* * * * *

When Katniss arrives with Jason at the bakery that morning, there's a small crowd at the back door. Her heart sinks. Her first thought is Peeta and she starts to run. Jason runs, too. Their way is blocked by three Peacekeepers. Jason tries to run around them, but one of them picks him up. Jason squirms and struggles. "Let him go!" Katniss shrieks, pounding on the Peacekeeper's back.

"You can't go in there!" another Peacekeeper bellows, pinning Katniss's arms to her side.

"What's happened?" Katniss screams. "Is he all right?"

The back door to the bakery opens just then and Katniss sees more Peacekeepers, then Peeta. Her first instinct is relief, but then she sees Peeta's face. There's a bruise under his left eye. And, oh God -- there's Gale, his arms bound behind his back. Katniss gasps. "Dad!" Jason cries. Gale lifts his head -- his face is even more bruised than Peeta's -- and looks straight at Katniss.

"Dad!" Jason screams, and starts to cry.

Peeta hears Jason and slows his steps.

"What happened?" Katniss cries, though she's afraid she might already know the answer.

"Katniss," Peeta says. "Take Jason home. I'll explain everything later."

Jason rails against a Peacekeeper, who's holding him back. His small fists are flailing about wildly.

"Jason!" Katniss cries, trying to pull her son back.

The boy is wild. One of his fists catches Katniss in the face and she falls back.

"Let him go!" Peeta orders the Peacekeeper. He bends down, so that his face is level with Jason's. "Jason, I'm going to see to it that your Dad doesn't get hurt, okay? I'm going with him to the Justice Building. You stay here with your Mom, and I'll be back as soon as you can. Think you'll be able to help out in the bakery? I'll need all the help I can get today, and maybe for the next few days."

Jason's eyes are intent on Peeta's mouth. He nods, and loosens his grip. He stands. Katniss grips his hand hard. She glances around and sees several of the Peacekeepers staring impassively at her.

"Come on, Jason," she says, tugging him towards the bakery.

Her huntress's instincts tell her trouble is coming.


	23. ALL GROWS DARK

Peeta needs to clear his head. "Talia? I'm going to take a walk, okay? Back in a bit."

Talia nods, but she can't hide the look of concern on her face.

"I'm okay. Just need to sort myself out," he says, then smiles.

 _Sometimes strengths can be weaknesses, and weaknesses can be strengths. Are you listening to me,_ _Peeta? Are you?_

His father had said this to him after one of his mother's episodes. She had smacked Peeta hard on the right side of his head for burning a batch of bread. His head had spun. He'd always been afraid of his mother, but this time was different. What did his father mean? Was the fear Peeta felt really asign of strength?

_You can observe a lot by watching, Peeta. You have to survive._

Several years ago, his father had a stroke. When his mother found him, he was on the floor. As he'd fallen, he'd hit his head on a corner of the table where the fresh dough was laid out, waiting to be kneaded and put into the ovens. When Peeta found out, he'd wanted to leave the Capitol immediately. He'd asked permission from Snow. Snow had refused, no surprise there.

"You're to entertain some very valuable clients this week, Peeta. I can't have you running around 12 and getting all flustered. Anyway, your father's alive, you should be grateful."

The next two days were a nightmare. No one answered at his father's house. He presumed Rye and Talia and his mother had taken up temporary quarters at an apartment close to the hospital. His mind was filled with black thoughts. He had bad dreams.

In one, Peeta found his father lying on his back, his eyes staring at the ceiling, a look of terror frozen on his face. The horror was overwhwelming. The dream Peeta cried and begged his father to come back.

The Dream Peeta kept repeating: _Sometimes strengths can be weaknesses, and weaknesses_ _strengths. Are you listening to me, Dad? Are you?_

Three days after his stroke, Peeta was able to reach his father in the hospital. "Dad," he said, his voice shaking. "How are you feeling? Do you want me to send anything from here?"

"Peeta," his father said. "No, please. They have me on a very strict diet. No more sweets for me. Ever." His father chuckled softly.

"Please take good care of yourself," Peeta whispered. "I love you."

There were no lingering after-effects. At least, that's what the doctor told Peeta. "He's a very lucky man," the doctor said.

* * * * *

The phone shatters the silence of Peeta's empty house. He doesn't know how long he's been out. A day? Two?

Peeta was 11. His cheek was smarting; the bruise would linger for weeks. And for what? For burning a batch of bread. Just so he could toss one to the Seam girl crouched outside, a girl who was clearly starving.

He hears his father's voice again: _Weaknesses can be strengths_.

He wakes on the couch, wrapped in a blanket. But the phone that's ringing is the one upstairs, the one right next to his bed. Which can only mean . . .

As he wearily stumbles upstairs, he tries to gather more of the dream, but it's fading fast. Didn't his father also say something about happiness? Didn't he?

He picks up.

"Mr. Mellark," says the familiar voice. "Why have you not pressed charges? The miner must be punished."

Peeta bites out, through gritted teeth. "It was a minor altercation. It was of no concern."

"Let me reiterate: even minor altercations can have unforeseen consequences. When a Merchant is attacked by rif-raff, he must immediately be put in his place. Especially since that Merchant is also a Victor."

"What are you suggesting?"

"Now, now, it's hardly a question of what I want. It's a question of what we must do to ensure that there are no more willful transgressions of the law. It is the only way to ensure that you and your loved ones -- remain safe. The miner must be arrested, pending trial."

* * * * *

When the phone call is over, Peeta grabs a bottle of white liquor, takes a deep swallow, and steps outside. A note flutters to the ground when he opens the front door: just two words and a signature, written in a shaky hand: I'M SORRY. -- KATNISS.

Peeta drops the note and, just like that, without bothering with anything, he starts walking. He hardly even registers where his feet are taking him. He only realizes when he sees the sign on the front of the low building: he's arrived at the train station.

He could get on, head back to the Capitol. Forget her, forget Jason, forget 12. Be what he is: Snow's whore. Anything to ensure that _she_ is safe. That she and her son are safe.

But he can't quite bring himself to get on the train. Instead, he dozes off on a bench on a platform for a few hours. When he comes fully awake, it's dark. He sits up, in a panic.

Between his feet is an empty bottle of white liquor. He hoists it as far as he can and feels satisfaction at hearing the bottle shatter.

* * * * *

His mother's shrieks go on and on and on. "You bastard!" she screams at Gale. He remembers catching a brief glimpse of Katniss's face; the look of shock he sees there almost unmans him. He bends and hugs Jason tightly. The boy's chest is heaving; Peeta can feel his heart racing. Finally, Katniss pulls her son away. She avoids Peeta's glance. Peeta wants to say it then, but he can't. So he thinks it: _I love you, Katniss. I always have._

Cray steps in at that moment, officious as always. "Mr. Mellark, would you mind coming down with me to the Justice Building? We need to take down your statement."

"Why?" Peeta asks. "No real harm has been done. Let's just leave it alone."

Cray shakes his head. "You know procedure, Mr. Mellark. There are laws."

Something tells Peeta it wouldn't be wise to contradict Cray. Especially not in front of a crowd. He rubs a tired hand over his face and nods.

Peeta doesn't miss the meaningful glance Cray throws at Katniss, who stands with her head bowed, her arms around her son. Damn the man! Peeta wants badly to speak to her, to utter words of comfort, no matter how small, but with Cray watchin him, he can't. Instead, Peeta throws as much as he can into a look, just one long look, then follows Cray and the Peacekeepers.

* * * * *

President Snow places a call to Darna at her home in District One. She is surprised and wonders if it has anything to do with the Reaping, which is unfolding in a matter of days.

Snow tells her that he has summoned Peeta back to the Capitol. (The timing, Darna thinks, is all wrong) He wants Darna to return at once.

"You will begin your act immediately, my dear," Snow says. "It will be quite strenuous for the next year or so. Think you can handle it?"

Her answer is a strong affirmative.

She can do anything, as long as it's with Peeta.

* * * * *

Darna says, "You're different."

"What do you mean," Peeta says. "You're different, too." ( _We're all different_ , Peeta thinks. _It_ _doesn't take much._ )

Darna says, "It's just -- . Never mind."

There's music playing in the background -- or is that something that exists only inside her head? Sometimes she doesn't know anymore, what's real or what's not.

No, she knows. This man before her is real. It's him that grounds her, keeps her going.

 _Peeta, Peeta, Peeta_. It's a constant chant in her head.

She wraps her arms around him. She's missed him. She's all right now. All right.

The liquor he's been drinking stains his breath, but to Darna everything about Peeta is sweet.

"Let's just stand here," Darna says. "A moment."

He's patient with her. So patient. But she can feel him start to pull back.

She was home for a few months. She couldn't wait to get back to the Capitol. Couldn't wait. What is wrong with her?

She gives herself fully to Peeta that night. After, when they're spent, and she's lying in Peeta's arms, his warm breath in her ear, she murmurs, against his chest, "Someone back there?" He pretends not to hear her and she doesn't ask again.

* * * * *

Finnick drops by to talk; the two men stare sadly into their liquor and sigh. Darna joins them, and all three together cry a little bit.

“Things unfold,” Finnick says. “But at their own pace.”

"Another of your damn riddles," Peeta says.

"Why? What did I say?" Finnick says, hurt.

“Forget it,” Peeta says.

Darna kisses Peeta’s cheek and lays her head on his shoulder.

“Do you want me to leave now?” Finnick asks.

Peeta hesitates. "No," he says, finally.

“He's a little tired,” Darna says.

“Well,” Finnick says. "We all are."

Peeta looks at Finnick and shakes his head. Finnick continues, in an even voice, "I was the star of the show last week. You missed it. Probably my greatest performance."

"With or without restraints?" Peeta asks, his voice dripping weariness.

No one feels like talking anymore. Darna stares at the floor. Peeta closes his eyes. Finnick drinks.

After, when they're all drifting, in their own heads and memories, Darna and Finnick are startled to hear Peeta's voice: "We never see any stars here in the Capitol, you realize that?" Peeta says softly. "In Twelve, the skies are full of them. Are they like that in Four, too? And One?"


	24. THE SNAKE: A CAPITOL PERFORMANCE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> MAJOR TRIGGERS HERE. DO NOT READ IF PEETA/DARNA is your ABSOLUTE WORST.

It's October, the middle of the fall season. The Games ended a few months earlier. The newest Victor, Ben, is a slender, 16-year-old lad with dark eyes and hair, a miner's son from 12, of all things. Snow's already put him to work. Every time Peeta sees the boy, he can't meet his gaze: the accusatory, Why-Didn't-You-Warn-Me kind of gaze that he's seen on too many others before.

Sometimes, Peeta conducts imaginary conversations with Ben in his head: _Would you have tried as hard to live if I'd told you?_ No. _So you understand why I couldn't warn you_. No, because I would have thought it more merciful to let me die in the Arena. Now I'm still dying, but slowly.

Snow has devised a spectacular series of entertainments for the fall season. All star the most popular pair of Victors in the history of Panem: Peeta and Darna.

The first entertainment, in September, stoked the public's hunger, but the second one, in October, has the audience reeling from the very first scene. Everyone agrees that Snow has outdone himself, has pulled off an elaborate staging the likes of which the Capitol has never seen.

A mournful tune fills the theatre as the rich velvet curtains concealing the stage slowly part.

There, in the very center, is Darna reclining motionless on what appears to be a gigantic bier of thorns. The stage lights are dim, but her skin seems to glow from the shadows: white as snow. After a few minutes, during which the audience's anticipation manifests in much tittering, Peeta enters the stage from far right. He's clad only in a pair of dark pants. The audience hears a rhythmic drum beat. It's as if the drum echoes the beating of Peeta's heart.

His face is expressionless, his eyes ringed with make-up to resemble shadows. But what has the audience gasping is the enormous snake, curving across his bare shoulders and back. The snake's scales are shimmering green and gold; its long red tongue flicks out every few beats and seems to caress Peeta's ears and neck. The snake looks massive, but Peeta seems to carry it easily. He pauses to take in Darna's still form, then crosses the stage. Now, he begins to pant heavily. The audience starts to writhe, mimicking Peeta's slither across the stage, mimicking the motions of the snake.

The crowd roars. Most of them have seen this performance three or four times already. It's the most popular show that's ever been staged in the Capitol.

Cries are heard: "Hurry! Hurry!"

Yes, everyone wants to see Darna and Peeta fuck. Precisely. That's why they wait. They'll wait two whole hours.

The enormous snake continues to make its way over Peeta's body, making low, sibilant sounds. The head dips between Peeta's legs, then comes back. Peeta moves slowly towards the woman, as if he's in a trance. With every step, the snake curves more tightly around his torso. Its head dips lower and lower, until finally it slips its head underneath Peeta's pants. The crowd gasps. Slowly, Peeta's pants are dragged downwards by the increasingly insistent motions of the snake until he is completely naked, standing over the woman.

The snake arches its green and gold head, as if lured by this new morsel, and slowly begins to wind towards Darna, her chest clearly visible through her thin, white shift. Her chest rises and falls, rises and falls, and the audience watches mesmerized as the snake slowly unwinds from Peeta's body and begins winding towards Darna, moving beneath her head and slowly lifting her up.

When the snake reaches out its long tongue and flicks her lips, the audience gasps. The feel of the snake's tongue finally rouses Darna and she sits up. Peeta dips his head and begins nipping at her erect nipples through the thin fabric of her white gown. She gasps and twists this way and that, but Peeta's mouth is relentless.

The rest of the performances is a tangle of limbs and tongues and the heat in the theatre rises until even the people in the audience are disrobing. Snow watches the proceedings from his box hovering over the stage. He always catches the first performance of the day. Surrounding Snow are his mistresses of the moment, all conveniently masked. It's a striking tableaux. This is what Peeta sees from the stage: the man in white with the pale grey eyes. On the man's right, a woman whose headdress is made up entirely of speckled grey and white birds. On Snow's other side, another woman, on whose piled-up red hair nest two live peacocks, fanning their tails slowly in the pulsing air.

If there is such a thing, Peeta thinks, as a man's soul being loose from his body, his is already gone. It's not in the theater, not on the stage where he and Darna join. It flits in the air, probing the unlit corners above the stage, going in and out, like a bird to its nest and back.

Afterwards, Peeta carries a limp Darna off-stage, and they are immediately met by a blur of hands. A few pairs relieve Peeta of Darna's body and begin rubbing ointments on his back and shoulders -- she always scratches him, the audience likes to see the angry red marks appearing on his back. But for the next performance, he must be entirely clean, the skin completely unblemished. Hence, the people working him from all sides. Because the next performance begins in just a matter of hours.

He's dimly aware of the din he left behind him, in the theater -- the audience cries and moans and the Peacekeepers, the ones closest to the stage, snarl, "Out! Out! Get back!"

Peeta closes his eyes. He's exhausted, and so is Darna. Her handlers have taken her to a separate room. There can be no contact, no conversation between them, until their next moment on the stage. The enforced separation seems to ignite sparks in her. Everyone can see it in the way she reaches for him, at the end.

* * * * *

"There is so much evil in the world, Mr. Mellark," Snow says.

 _Really?_ Peeta thinks.

"For what it's worth," Snow goes on, "I've found certain measures extremely effective in making sure the -- _infection_ , shall we say -- is contained: naked, brute force."

Did he have to use the word naked? Does he really have to shove Peeta's face in it? Especially as Peeta, at this moment, is precisely that: naked.

A silence. Peeta hears his father's voice again, from somewhere far away: _Remember, Peeta, sometimes strengths can be weaknesses, and weaknesses can be strengths._

"It is better," Snow says, "not to think too much. Things occur. Not much sense in any of them."

Peeta makes Snow wait a few beats before he answers. "Of course," he says.

"Try and get some sleep, Mr. Mellark. There is so much that needs to be done. Let me just say, I am pleased, so very pleased, about the way the fall season has turned out. Aren't you? I don't know how we can top this."

Peeta shrugs. He's sure Snow already has something in mind.

"At one time, Mr. Odair was the darling of the Capitol. He had all the citizens -- male and female and everything in between -- eating out of his hand. But now there is a new Victor in the limelight, and that Victor is you. Remember this, Mr. Mellark: there is room for only one subject at a time in the limelight's narrow beam. Finnick no longer amuses, but the human appetite demands to be fed. You have left him so far behind. Compared to you, now, Mr. Odair and the rest -- mere shadows. And I must thank you for having trained Darna so well. She is simply spectacular. A true vision! The notes you bring out in her . . . " Snow allows his voice to fade away. Peeta shivers. "Yes indeed, you and she are a most fortunate pairing."

* * * * *

At the end of October, Peeta receives a call from Cray.

"Mr. Mellark," Cray begins. Darna, coiled around Peeta, moans in her sleep. "I hope I'm not calling too late?"

"No," Peeta says, getting up and walking out of the bedroom.

"There's been a development in the investigation," Cray says.

Peeta takes a deep breath. "I'm listening," he says.

"We've arrested Gale Hawthorne, pending a formal hearing."

Peeta almost forgets to breathe. "Gale Hawthorne," he repeats, trying to buy himself time. "Was that really necessary?"

"What do you mean?" Cray says, letting some annoyance show. "He attacked a Victor. There were a number of witnesses. Obviously the Capitol will press charges." Cray pauses. Peeta is silent. "I thought you'd be pleased."

"I am," Peeta says, hastily. "And a motive? What was the motive?"

"Ah, well," Cray says, and then stops.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was the worst. It won't get any darker.


	25. THE ARREST

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise, the previous chapter is the WORST that this will get for Peeta.

" _Why_ has he been arrested?" Peeta asks, surprised.

"Well, of course," Cray blustered. "We take disturbances of the peace very seriously, here in 12."

When Cray showed up at his home, the miner had not flinched, had not even expressed one iota of surprise. Cray ordered that he immediately be taken into custody.

"He went along quite peaceably," Cray tells Peeta.

"Where is he now?" Peeta asked.

"Well, he's where he belongs: in jail in the Justice Building. He'll be kept in prison until the trial."

Peeta thinks about _taken into custody_ _in his home_. In the presence of Katniss then. And Jason.

"Did he say why he chose to confront me?"

"Oh, no!" Cray snorted. "These sorts always maintain their innocence to the last, even when they're caught red-handed. But Hawthorne's father was a known rabble-rouser. And the apple doesn't fall far from the tree, as my good mother always used to say. Oh that Mrs. Hawthorne, she truly is a fiery one! Yelled at my men and brandished a bow and arrow at the first man who dared overturn her kitchen! Quite a hovel -- the kitchen's the most disgusting assortment of skinned animals -- which, to tell you the truth, we could have hauled the lot of them in for, as you know hunting is a capital offense --"

"No," Peeta says.

"I'm sorry?" Cray says.

"Is it really necessary to involve Mrs. Hawthorne and her son in this ugly business?"

"Mr. Mellark, you know as well as anyone that we have procedures! Procedures that must be followed to the letter! The more so in this case because she --"

"She's a poor woman who's lost her main means of livelihood, now her husband's in jail for assaulting a merchant," Peeta says.

"Well, I must tell you, Mr. Mellark, there have been reports floating around the Seam about Mrs. Hawthorne. Reports of a rather -- humm, shall we say, _salacious_ nature."

"Such as?" Peeta says. His voice is icy, but Cray appears oblivious to the change in tone.

"She doesn't seem to have behaved as a proper wife, sir. I'm sorry to put it like that, but we've had several people from the Seam corroborate it. In fact, there are some who state quite plainly that her ways might have led her husband to lose all sense and rush to the bakery, in a misguided attempt to defend her honor . . . "

"What exactly are you insinuating?" Peeta asks through gritted teeth. "That Mrs. Hawthorne was having an affair with -- with -- ?" He bites off his words. If Cray were standing in front of Peeta at that moment, no telling what Peeta might do. Punch him? Throttle him? But Cray is calling from 12, thousands of miles away, a place that -- for good or ill -- Peeta still thinks of as his home.

"I'm not insinuating anything, Mr. Mellark! Only that it's apparently well-known in the Seam that Gale Hawthorne had quite a temper. Might even have slapped his wife around occasionally, when he got drunk. Which I've heard say was pretty often, and -- "

"If we're done here," Peeta says, "I think I'd like to get back to sleep."

"Of course, Mr. Mellark! Just thought you might appreciate an update, that's all. Good-night."

* * * * *

"What is it?" Darna asks from the bed. She sounds wide awake. Peeta wonders how much of his conversation with Cray she might have overheard.

"Just Cray," Peeta says.

"You sounded upset," Darna says. "Who is Mrs. Hawthorne?"

Peeta is thankful she can't see the look on his face in the darkness.

* * * * *

Katniss's face is red and puffy from crying. She waits until the last Peacekeeper leaves and then sinks to the ground. She gazes around her at the ruin of her home -- the smashed furniture, the overturned boxes. Every thing she and Gale owned now lies emptied out and scattered on the ground, like so much debris. Jason clings to her, terrified.

She hadn't expected it. Her brain, she realizes, has been in a terrible muddle lately. And not just because of Gale assaulting Peeta's father. She's been worried to death -- about Peeta. About him over there in the Capitol.

She recalls the many sharp arguments with Gale over the bakery; she knew his jealousy, his hurt pride.

She groans.

"Mama," Jason whispers. "Dad didn't -- he didn't mean to hurt anyone, did he, Mama?"

"Of course he didn't," Katniss says, hugging Jason. "We'll get this sorted out. And your Dad will be back with us before you know it. For now, let's just get everything cleaned up. We've got to hurry, it'll be dark soon."

Jason wipes his cheeks and nods. "Mama?" he says.

Katniss sighs. She was about to give him a sharp command, but she decides to bite her lip. "Yes, Jason?"

"Why'd Peeta leave?"

Katniss hesitates. She looks at Jason's face. He looks absolutely devastated. "He -- he had to, Jason. He was probably ordered to."

"By who?" Jason asks. "I'm not sure," Katniss says. "But I know he feels bad about it. About leaving you."

Jason nods. He still looks upset, but thankfully he doesn't ask her anything more.

Slowly, Katniss and Jason begin trying to salvage what is left of their old home. Their only pieces of furniture are smashed to bits. But there are some photographs that Katniss is able to rescue from the mud.

Suddenly, Katniss hears someone call her name. She looks up; in the gathering twilight she sees, walking purposefully towards them -- the Hawthornes. In front is Gale's brother, Rory. Behind him, Katniss can make out Hazelle and Posy. Behind them trail a few more Seam families.

"Need some help, Katniss?" Rory shouts. His voice is calm and defiant.

"Yippeee!" Jason shouts, and starts to run to his uncle.

For the first time that day, Katniss actually smiles


	26. THE UNFOLDING

Autumn rains turn the Seam's narrow lanes into mud. Winter's first cold breaths come. Gossip trickles down from the Capitol -- mostly of what Peeta is doing. Speculation is rife that Snow will soon announce Darna and Peeta's wedding.

Katniss is now a familiar sight, trudging back and forth from the Seam to the Justice Building: slender frame, dark hair worn in a single braid, a scowl on her face, as if daring anyone to cross her. That Katniss, people say. She still has so much fire. Those Everdeen women -- people shake their heads.

She's been going to the Justice Building, every day since Gale's arrest. If it's a school day, she drops drops Jason off at school first. If it's a Saturday or Sunday, she leaves him with Greasy Sae or with Thom's wife, who has a son of her own, a little younger than Jason.

Thom is one of Gale's oldest friends. "Anything we can do for you," Thom's wife tells Katniss, "you have only to ask."

When people ask Katniss how Gale is doing, Katniss only shakes her head. She finds it difficult to speak about Gale now. Her guilt burns in her chest.

* * * * *

The miners begin a collection for Gale. When they present the funds to Katniss, she almost refuses them. Only at her mother-in-law's urging -- Hazelle happens to be visiting Katniss at the time -- does she grudgingly accept the coin. "For Jason's sake," she says, a tremor in her voice.

Jason turns eight. Prim writes, urging Katniss to bring Jason to her. Katniss refuses.

District 12's only hotel burns down in a suspicious blaze. Cray and his Peacekeepers arrive too late to save the old building, but no one feels the loss very much. No one comes to 12, and those who do come only do so because they have family there, family they can stay with.

The winter's first storm arrives. Katniss lies awake in the darkness, listening to the wind. Then, moving quietly so as not to wake Jason, she picks up her bow. It's the one thing of value the Peacekeepers who came to arrest Gale weren't able to destroy. She runs her fingers over the curves of it, deliberates for only a moment, then decides she has to do it. She has to hunt again. And she does.

At dawn the forest rises up before her: immense, greenly dank. Secrets . . . she tries to push the thoughts away. No, not that tree, she thinks. It was the other one. Where he --

She shakes her head, to clear it. The forest, like her mind these days, is full of ghosts.

* * * * *

Cray decides to call her in. It's time. He's been patient, mindful of the Victor's objections, the last time they spoke (Could it be true, Cray wonders, the gossip that spread through the Seam last summer, of her and the Victor? He looks at her, sitting across from him now. She looks thoughtful and composed. Quite a spitfire, this one, when she was growing up. Oh he remembers well how she and the Mellark boy used to be sweet on each other. Hadn't he himself spied on a few of their gropes, out there some nights, when they thought no one was watching the two of them sneak out towards the woods? Wonder she didn't get pregnant. But then again, her mother's a healer . . . )

He becomes aware that she's fidgeting. Her foot taps against the table impatiently. "Ah, Mrs. Hawthorne," Cray says, emphasizing the word "Mrs." with almost a leer. Katniss scowls back at him. "It was good of you to come on such short notice, and -- ah"

"How long are you going to keep him in here?"

"Who? Ah. You mean -- your husband?"

Katniss folds her arms and stares heatedly at him. Cray can't help running his tongue over his bottom lip. Katniss's expression remains carefully blank.

"We have to hold him until the trial. Rules are rules."

"So when does the trial take place?"

"Well, it's hard to say, Mrs. Hawthorne. You see, in complicated cases of this nature, one must be careful to make sure all the evidence has been properly recorded and catalogued. Prior to trial, I mean. And considering the victim was one of the most upstanding citizens of our community, and considering the manner in which he was -- "

"Yes, yes, I know," Katniss says impatiently. She scowls and turns her head, trying to disguise her displeasure. Cray loses all thought and simply wants to get his hands under her shirt. He's had plenty of Seam women, they're all rather plain and stupid in the end, but this one -- ah! Imagine Gale Hawthorne and the Victor tapping that. Interesting.

Perhaps now would be the appropriate time to bring up the Victor.

"Confess!" he suddenly barks at Katniss.

She startles. Her eyes widen. Good. Cray decides to press his advantage.

"Confess to your relationship with the Victor, Peeta Mellark!"

"You're mad!" Katniss cries. Her face flushes a deep scarlet.

Victory, Cray thinks.

"Mrs. Hawthorne," he smirks. "How long do you think you can keep holding out on me?"

When Katniss makes a move to stand, Cray leaps to his feet and grabs her roughly by the shoulders. Katniss gasps. "Let go of me!" she cries.

"There is only one way to get out of this predicament, Mrs. Hawthorne," Cray hisses against Katniss's right ear. She tries to push him away, but his grip is too strong. "It's a little too late to be playing the innocent."

"I've done nothing -- " Katniss cries.

There's a sharp rap on the door.

"Sir?" says a muffled voice.

Both Cray and Katniss are panting heavily, Cray with the effort to restrain her, and Katniss with her effort to free her arms, which Cray has pinned tightly to her sides. He loosens his grip somewhat.

"Sir, someone to see you, sir," the voice says.

"Who? It had better be someone important to warrant this kind of interruption!"

"Sir, it's that Seam woman. Stella. Says she has to speak to you on a matter connected to the investigation. Says it's urgent."

Cray sighs heavily. "All right," he says. "I'll be there in a moment."

He releases Katniss. She straightens and casts him a glance of murderous fury. Cray's disappointment is keen, but he isn't the type to give up easily. "Mrs. Hawthorne," he says. "On another matter, hunting is a crime punishable by public flogging. I personally wouldn't want to mar that pretty skin of yours -- " Here he stops to drag his left hand across Katniss's cheek -- "but don't think for a moment that I will not hesitate to enforce the law if I have to. On the other hand, I'm quite willing to look the other way, if you give me a little something in return."

Katniss gasps. She raises her right palm as if to slap him, but Cray catches her wrist easily. "Tsk, tsk, tsk," he grins. "I can see why you're known in the Seam as the 'girl on fire.' I'm sure you have both the Victor and your husband eating out of the palm of your hand."

"When I tell my husband about this -- "

"Yes, do tell your husband, Mrs. Hawthorne," Cray smirks. "In fact, I look forward to your tellng him. I'm sure he'll probably want to -- murder me? Eh?"

He follows Katniss with his eyes as she stomps angrily out of the room. Then he turns on the young Peacekeeper who waits at attention just by the door. "Well, Darius?" he says. "Where is this Seam slut?"

"Over there, sir," Darius says, gesturing vaguely behind him.

"Where?" Cray says impatiently. "I don't see her."

Darius turns to look behind him and his jaw drops open. "Sir, I -- I think she's left. She must have misunderstood. I told her you'd be out in a minute . . . "

Cray gazes at the young Peacekeeper with narrowed eyes.


	27. DREAMS

It's early. Katniss perches carefully on a branch. She smiles gleefully, almost like a child. The stubbed branch of the tall, scraggly oak gives her a good view of the meadow.

Red-tailed hawks wing soundlessly from tree to tree. She watches them for a while and then she hears it: the heavy tread of Peeta.

Her hands finger her braid. She smiles, thinking of how Peeta likes to take his time unraveling it. She usually giggles while he does it, loving the feel of his patient fingers combing through her hair.

She hears the footsteps stop right below her and calls out, _Peeta!_

But it isn't Peeta, it's Gale.

Katniss knows, as she looks down at Gale's face, that she's done something unforgivable.

 _Why him, Katniss?_ Gale asks, still looking at the tree. _Why him?_

 _Go away, Gale,_ Katniss yells, frightened by the look on his face. _Leave us be!_

_"And who's 'us,' Katniss? You and him?"_

He finally turns around. Not before she hears him mutter, loudly, "Merchants take everything."

She and Peeta hadn't yet made love. They'd shared hungry kisses, and their hands wandered, butshe'd been too shy to let him remove her clothes. Now, when Peeta finally arrives, when they're in each other's arms, she trembles. And when his roaming fingers go there, between her legs, a dull roaring fills her ears. Katniss cries out.

"Mama!" she hears from somewhere very far away. She manages to drag her eyes open. She's in her own home, and Jason has his arms around her waist. "Mama!" he cries. "You scared me! What were you dreaming? I heard you say Peeta . . . "

* * * *

When Katniss leaves the Justice Building after her interrogation by Cray, she is trembling so much, her knees nearly give out. The spot on her cheek where Cray touched her flames. As she hurries across Town, head lowered, she feels like she's already branded, like one of those starving women who creep to Cray's back door and are later seen stumbling home to the Seam, hair wild, dresses in disarray.

She thinks of her mother, with Prim in Eight.

Her mother, she knows, had been engaged to Mr. Mellark, Peeta's father. Everyone assumed the wedding was only a matter of time. They were both Merchant, and theirs was considered a particularly fortuitous pairing. Their families had lived close to each other, for many years. When her mother ran away with a miner, she was cut off by her family. Even now, many years later, Katniss doesn't know anything about her mother's family. She's always assumed her grandparents were dead. Her mother never speaks of them.

The tale continued: Peeta's father had been so heartbroken that he'd left the District, for a period of time. No one saw him, for over a year. By the time he returned, Katniss was already a seed growing in her mother's belly.

The Merchant blood -- part of it's in Katniss. Because of her mother. But that's the part that weighs Katniss with guilt. Especially when she thinks of Gale.

She thinks of Peeta, paired with Darna in those gossipy magazines. Does he love her, Katniss wonders. Peeta's father, the man who was once so deeply in love with her mother -- even he managed to move on. She might have brought up Peeta's father, during one of her infrequent calls to her mother, but her mother doesn't say much in response. Katniss realizes that this is the way it has always been between her and her mother: long silences on the phone, sometimes a sigh. And then she or her mother quietly puts down the phone, and they put aside thoughts of the other until the time comes for the next call.

* * * * *

"How've you been?" Katniss asks Gale. It's awkward, being in a room where she knows other people are watching and listening. Not that they were ever much good at conversation. Whatever she and Gale felt for each other was always better communicated non-verbally.

"Good. Obviously," Gale says.

Katniss bites her lip.

"How's Jason?" he asks.

"He's doing all right -- " she begins.

"What about school?"

"He's all right," Katniss says.

She refuses to tell Gale about the taunts, about the fact that sometimes Jason comes home with bruises on his arms and back. Once there was even, by his right elbow, a bite mark. She saw clearly the indentations made by a row of teeth. She'd been beside herself and screamed, "Who did this?" But her son only shook his head stubbornly and refused to say.

After that, the conversation with Gale simply dies and they stare at each other across the table. She is confused (sometimes) and angered (most of the time) at Gale's reticence. It's as if he's blaming her -- for everything. She almost can't bear the glare of his judgment, but still she makes herself see him -- every day. With Christmas approaching, it gets harder and harder -- not just to deal with Jason, but also with her own unruly emotions.

"Have they told you yet when the trial is likely to --?" she begins.

Gale barks out a laugh. "Nope."

"But they can't keep you in here forever!" Katniss bursts out. And right after she says it, she knows: they can, and they will.

She can't bear the look of sadness that enters Gale's eyes.

"I'm going to find a way to get you out of here," Katniss says.

"Don't be stupid, Katniss. What can _you_ do?"

"Just you watch," Katniss says. She's a little nervous, knowing precisely who's watching. But she can't allow her husband to return to his cell looking so defeated. "I'll see you same time tomorrow."


	28. APPROACHING WINTER

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Very sorry but this is another Snow and Jaylene hook-up.
> 
> You've been warned . . .
> 
> Also:
> 
> Katniss has an insight into why Peeta was reaped.

It's Saturday. Jason is still asleep. Katniss has been awake since first light. Now she stares out unseeing at the muddy lanes of the Seam. The day before, when she was visiting Gale, she almost collided with Stella, who was going in to see -- she has no idea who.

Before long, it will be Christmas. The Hawthornes helped her rebuild her home -- if not for that, Katniss's devastation would have been complete.

Her bow lies across her lap. Her mind goes back and forth, back and forth, over her last conversation with Cray. Then, resolutely, she whispers to herself: "If I'm to be taken, I'd rather it be for this than for the other thing."

She picks up her bow and slips quietly out of the house.

She reaches the edge of the forest just as shafts of light begin to appear between the tall trees and the mist starts to lift. Just as she enters the line of trees, a small wind comes, sending a shower of dried leaves down on her head. She pushes on.

* * * * *

Snow summons his ministers to a meeting.

They inform him that the unrest in the outlying districts seems to be spreading. They make a request for additional Peacekeepers to be immediately dispatched to Districts Four and Eleven, currently the most problematic.

Snow smirks. While his ministers are talking, he eyes Jaylene, who sits on his right. Most of her face -- except for her mouth -- lies hidden behind an intricate black and gold mask. Now and then, he leans over and nibbles her lips.

"They are trying to force us to declare war," claims the minister from Four. Snow gazes thoughtfully at him. This minister had previously appeared to be a most adaptable cohort.

Snow expects the minister from Twelve, Dunbryll, to add his two cents, but the man is resolutely quiet. Smart man, Snow thinks. Either that, or Cray has him firmly by the balls. Hmm, might be worth it to probe further into that. So far, Cray's done a masterful job with the Hawthorne question. If this Dunbryll steps out of line, Snow knows who he'll have lined up to take his place. Come to think of it, Dunbryll probably realizes that. It's probably the reason for his current reticence.

Snow turns to Jaylene. "Have anything to say, my sweet?" he inquires.

Jaylene hesitates for a moment, then says, firmly, "Sacrifice."

"I'm sorry -- what?" the minister from Four sputters.

Jaylene suddenly rises from her seat. Pointing a finger at the minister from Four, she shrieks, "Charlatan!"

The minister merely gapes with his mouth open.

"You and Odair!" Jaylene declares. "Don't bother to deny it! You and he are the leaders of the rebellion! Do you think we are gullible? Do you think we can be so easily deceived?"

"Cancel tomorrow evening's performance. I shall deliver another public address," Snow tells the assembled ministers. "One more thing: perhaps it would be wise to collect all the Victors and have them watch the address together, in the Training Center."

* * * * *

Katniss is walking back, quite pleased with the results of her morning. She caught a rabbit, admittedly rather lean, but she's happy at the thought of serving some meat to Jason, for once. He's gotten thin again, and so has she. He misses the bread from the bakery. Dreams of it, even. So does she. But she can't go back. Not after what Gale did. Or -- can she?

Mr. Mellark wouldn't hold it against her -- that her husband is a jealous oaf is a fact widely known in 12, even to Merchants. And Mr. Mellark has never been less than warm and gracious to her, even now, even after the press conference Cray gave the previous week.

Cray had made it clear that the presence of every last one of the Hawthorne and Mellark families was mandatory. And so she was forced to listen to Cray read the list of charges against her husband while standing only a few feet away from Peeta's parents and brothers. After, Mr. Mellark had placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, and she'd been so surprised she couldn't keep from a smothered gasp. And Mrs. Mellark had come between them and said, in a loud voice, "What are  
you about now?"

* * * * *

The sun breaks through the trees enough that it makes her perspire a little.

She loves it: the solitude, the quiet. She feels the purest joy she's felt in . . . forever.

Now, she's coming close to the edge, where the trees give way to meadow. Her natural caution kicks in. She slows her pace, looking right and left and behind. She can see, at the far edge of the meadow, thin tendrils of smoke. She frowns, brushes at a few strands of hair that have worked loose from her braid and fall across her face, obstructing her vision.

Just like all those years ago, when Peeta would meet her in the forest, she feels a momentary sense of misgiving. How often she would taste the air, always managing to -- if not hear him, then smell him. That whiff of bread and goodness. She could breathe it in endlessly. She didn't think anyone was tracking them, but now she knows her happiness, and her stubbornness, simply blinded her.

Of course someone tracked them. There are no coincidences in this life, Katniss believes. That was why Peeta was reaped.

But how, _how_ , she asked herself the night of the reaping, and every night afterwards. _Why_?

When Peeta's name was called at the Reaping, and she didn't know where to look, and her heart was pounding so loud she was sure everyone could hear it, she was afraid, afraid, afraid. From far away, she heard someone calling her name, over and over. And when she finally managed to drag her eyes upwards, to see who might be calling her name, it was Gale.


	29. CRAY: THE BACKSTORY NO ONE ASKED FOR

Cray's had dozens -- no, hundreds -- of women. District 12 is peppered with his progeny. In fact, it's sometimes said that Cray's offspring could fill an entire school. The women he manages to impregnate don't even dare bring up abortion. The few who do end up disappearing -- permanently. Like that snivelling little whore, Charmayne something-or-other, who kept throwing herself against a log and ended up drowning in a culvert after an unexpected storm.

The one woman Cray has never dared lay a finger on is the huntress from the Seam.

Cray fully expects Katniss to continue to hunt -- yes, even after his stern warning at their last meeting. She's fiery and stubborn, that he knows. He's known her for years -- watched when the little girl grew into a lissome young woman, watched as she fell in love with the youngest son of the baker, watched as her heart broke when that boy was reaped, watched Gale Hawthorne go after her with a determination matched only by her own stubborn resistance, watched when Peeta returned a Victor from his games and refused to have anything to do with her, watched Katniss marry Gale Hawthorne and sob -- yes, actually sob -- at her own wedding. Oh yes, Cray knows almost everything there is to know about Katniss Everdeen Hawthorne.

Did she love Gale Hawthorne? Hard to say. Gale was the boy who protected her after Peeta had been taken away by the Capitol. But Hawthorne himself had quite a wandering eye. He'd even -- so it was said -- had a go at Madge Undersee, the mayor's only child. The dalliance was brief, but nevertheless it had happened. And Undersee had not been seen with any other man in the years following, so perhaps she still harbored an unrequited longing for the brooding miner.

The trouble was, the more Katniss defied him, the more Cray found himself desiring her. Not to mention, she looked so damn attractive with that bow and that quiver of arrows -- he secretly rejoiced at the news that the Peacekeepers who'd ransacked her home hadn't managed to take that bow from her and snap it in two.

He also knew that the Victor, Mellark, had been sniffing around her -- even, painting her -- for years.

While the Victor was off whoring himself in the Capitol, Cray frequently took it upon himself to inspect Peeta's home in Victors Village. He sat on Peeta's couch, put his feet up on Peeta's coffee table, and even went through his closets. He'd been doing it for years. He knew exactly what Peeta's life in the Capitol entailed and therefore had no respect for him. The Victor did have a good eye, though. That, Cray would grant him. The paintings he'd done of Katniss were vibrant, full of passion and life. Naturally, he'd reported everything to Snow and that Capitol spy, the late Mr. Talon.

For it must be said that Cray not only despised Peeta, he also envied him: for his youth, his looks, and his wealth. He could not understand why Peeta, a Victor, refused to press his advantage. Other than a few quick rolls in the hay with Stella and her ilk, he had not made the slightest demand on Katniss Hawthorne.

His latest instructions from the Capitol could not have been more clear: he was to keep Hawthorne under lock and key for the duration. His defense was to be undertaken by the most incompetent lawyer in the district: no less than that lush Haymitch Abernethy. He would fail, and fail spectacularly. Snow himself would make sure of it by dispatching a Special Prosecutor from the Capitol. There was only one allowable outcome: Gale Hawthorne would be found guilty of criminal assault on a Victor, a crime punishable by death. Katniss would be widowed, and Cray would then be free to use her in whatever manner he wished. It would involve struggle, of course -- Katniss Hawthorne would not submit easily to any man. And the young Victor might have a few objections -- but Snow himself would see to it that Peeta remained in the Capitol. Peeta was occupied for the time being with that other Victor, Darna. Cray had seen photographs of the two fucking -- these were widely available to anyone willing to shell out the necessary coin. The pictures, especially of the woman, had been nothing short of breathtaking. Cray was only waiting for the proper time to show them to Katniss.

In the meantime, Cray had ordered that upon Katniss's next conjugal visit, she should have a thorough pat-down for concealed weapons. And since most of his men were incompetents, he would have to undertake such inspection himself.

* * * * *

Cray waits all day. When Katniss doesn't appear, he's more than a little disappointed.

So, an hour later, when one of his men appears at his side, coughs discreetly, and then whispers a report into Cray's ear, he can't be blamed for giving a loud belly laugh. The other man moves backward a step, looking as if he thinks Cray might just have lost his mind.

"Ah, my pretty one," Cray cackles, getting up from the table with alacrity. "A rabbit, did you say?"

The man nods. "Good," Cray says. "I can hardly wait."

He walks out the door of the Justice Building, straight to the barber. He wants to be clean-shaven, for her. He even requests that the barber clip his nose hairs, a task which the barber performs with a vague wrinkling of his nose.


	30. CRAY AND KATNISS

The smoke Katniss sees from a distance is the first sign that the Seam is starting to rouse: cooking fires are getting started, house by house. Katniss walks doggedly down the lanes, still keeping a wary eye out for any Peacekeepers.

Jason is wide awake by the time she bursts in the door. "Mama!" he says. "Where did you go?" He looks frightened; his eyes are a little red.

"Can we eat now, Mama?" Jason asks. Katniss smiles, and eagerly shows Jason the contents of her game bag. His eyes grow round.

When the meal is over -- and it seems to be over in a matter of minutes, so great is Jason's hunger -- Katniss takes Jason's hands between her own and says, "Jason, we're going to see your Dad now, OK?"

Jason drops his eyes. "Oh. Ok," he says.

"Go change and put on the pants and shirt I washed yesterday. I want you to look nice and presentable for your father."

It confuses her that even though Jason nods, he refuses to meet her eyes. Finally, he makes a move to obey. Katniss watches him for a few seconds, then puts a hand on his shoulder. "Jason," she says.

"Yes, Mama," he says.

"Something's troubling you. Can you tell me?"

"The last time we saw Dad -- " Jason says, haltingly. "When I cried. Dad said I was a sissy. He got mad?"

"Oh Jason," Katniss says softly. She pulls her son close and embraces him. "He didn't mean it."

"Then why does he say it?" Jason bursts out. "He's always saying stupid things. Especially to me."

"He doesn't mean it, Jason," Katniss says. "It's just -- he's really really sad when he sees you. And he gets mad at himself."

"I hate him sometimes," Jason whispers, clenching his fist.

Katniss strokes her son's hair. She has no words. Simply no words. She hugs him for a long time.

Finally, she stands. She goes to the corner and fetches Jason's only pair of boots. "Give me your hand, Jason," she says. "Give me your hand. We have to go."

The closer they get to the Justice Building, however, the more Jason drags his feet; it bothers Katniss no end, but she doesn't want to scold him. Not out here, where people are undoubtedly watching. She tamps down her annoyance and tugs at Jason's arm.

* * * * *

Katniss hesitates before Cray. She grips Jason's hand a little more firmly. "Here to see my husband," she says. There's something a little different about Cray this morning. He's clean-shaven, and the shirt he's wearing is a bright purple. She can't recall him ever being this fancy before.

"Ah, Mrs. Hawthorne," Cray smirks. Katniss hates the way he says "Mrs." In fact, she hates everything about Cray, but the particular emphasis he seems to place on that word makes her skin crawl.

"Phox!" Cray says to the Peacekeeper standing just behind him. "See if the prisoner's ready to receive his visitors."

"He is, sir," Phox says. "I checked on him just a few minutes ago."

"Very well, why don't you take this young man," he indicates Jason with a curt nod of his head, "to see his father. I have some business to conduct with Mrs. Hawthorne."

"No!" Katniss says as the Peacekeeper steps towards Jason. She extends her arm across Jason's chest, holding him back. "He's not going anywhere without me."

"Tsk, tsk, tsk, Mrs. Hawthorne!" Cray says, raising his eyebrows. "What's all this excitement? Surely a boy can be taken to see his father without his mother being constantly present. Hmmm? What do you say, laddie? Do you want to see your father, just the two of you by yourselves? I'm sure there's a lot of things you and he want to say to each other, without needing your Mum present. Right?"

Cray turns to Katniss: "It's about time you loosened those apron strings a bit, Mrs. Hawthorne!"

"No, he stays with me," Katniss says, chin raised defiantly.

Cray ignores her and addresses his next remark to Jason: "Now, my boy, if you would be so kind as to go with the nice gentleman here." The Peacekeeper named Phox slowly comes forward, though there's a slight hesitation in his step. Jason cringes and hangs on tightly to Katniss's arm.

Cray steps up to Katniss and hisses, "Mrs. Hawthorne! This will only take a moment! You are being entirely too unreasonable!"

But the more he harangues, the stronger the flint in Katniss's eyes. And Cray knows, even before his shoulders slump and he gestures to Phlox to take mother and son to the prisoner, he knows he's no closer to using Katniss Everdeen Hawthorne than he had been, all those years ago. It's a horrible, hopeless feeling -- one that Cray never expected to feel in this lifetime.

Phox escorts Katniss and Jason to the same room where she always meets with Gale. When they enter the room, Katniss holding firmly to Jason's hand, she's a little surprised when she sees that the expression in Gale's eyes is one of intense relief.

"Have a seat, Mrs. Hawthorne," Phox says, in a tone of respect she hasn't heard yet from anyone in the Justice Building. "And here," Phox says, pulling forward a chair that had been against the wall, "is a seat for the boy."

"Thank you," Katniss murmurs, touched in spite of herself at this civility.

Everything that day turns out better than Katniss expected it to. When she and Jason return to the Seam that evening, there is one last surprise waiting for them: a note left on the doorstep by Talia Mellark, wife of Rye Mellark, which said that Peeta had called a few weeks earlier and wanted her to make sure that Katniss and Jason were managing. She was sorry she had missed them; she would stop by again some other time, when things were less hectic at the bakery. Rye had taken over the managing of it.

That night, Katniss and Jason finish the rest of the rabbit stew. Jason falls asleep almost the instant his head hit his pillow. Katniss is tired, but she can't sleep. Her nerves are alight with anxiety.

When Gale was home, there was always palpable tension between them. There were times when she longed fervently to be alone, just her and Jason. Now, they are alone, and her mind is wracked with worry.


	31. DESPERATION

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First half of the chapter happens in the present.
> 
> Second half is a flashback to the day Peeta returned to 12, after he was crowned Victor of his games.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been adding detail to the chapters as I post them. So these are not exactly the same as they were in the original.

The following day, Sunday, Katniss rises early. She washes her hair and puts on a blue dress, one that used to belong to her mother. She combs and carefully re-braids her hair. Then, she rouses Jason. She makes him wash his face and checks carefully behind his ears.

"Where are we going, Mama?" Jason asks.

"The bakery," Katniss says.

"Is Peeta back?" Jason asks, a note of hopefulness in his voice.

Katniss sees the pleading in her son's blue eyes. Her breath catches.

"You like him a lot, don't you?" she says softly, rubbing her son's head.

Jason nods.

"He likes you, too. But Peeta isn't back . . . yet. This is just a -- courtesy call."

"What's a curr-sy call?" Jason asks.

"It's -- never mind, hurry up and I'll explain along the way," Katniss says. The plan she's formulated seems mad, even to her.

The bakery is closed on Sundays but Katniss guesses that Rye and his wife and their two little boys have moved into the apartment just over the bakery. To get to the bakery, Jason and Katniss have to pass The Hob. A few people stare at them. "Where you off to today, Katniss?" someone has the temerity to yell. Katniss thinks she catches a glimpse of Stella. Her habitual scowl deepens and she pushes on without answering.

Katniss tells herself she will not ask after Peeta. She shouldn't care if he really is marrying the beautiful Darna. In fact, she should be happy for him. Maybe he'll live in the Capitol permanently, she thinks. She can't imagine Darna wanting to live in 12.

As they get closer to the bakery, Katniss notices a change in Jason's demeanor. He seems almost -- happy? She hasn't planned what she is going to say to Rye and his wife.

Katniss raps loudly on the back door of the bakery. Almost immediately, she hears a hurricane of feet and giggles from one of the upstairs rooms. An upstairs window opens, and soon the blonde head of Talia Mellark appears. "Oh, it's you!" she says, before ducking her head back inside. Katniss can hear her telling someone, "Katniss and her boy are downstairs!" A man bellows, "Who?" Talia repeats "Katniss and her boy!" Katniss arranges her face. The door opens and Talia Mellark steps out.

Talia is blonde, and tall. She and Rye were high school sweethearts. Now, her hair is a little mussed, and she looks like she just grabbed the first thing handy to wrap around herself: a blue shawl that matches the blue of her eyes.

"Everything all right, Katniss?" she asks. Her voice is gentle; there's concern in her face.

"We're fine," Katniss says. "I wanted to thank you. For the note, yesterday. Your family has been too kind." Her voice starts to tremble. She can't continue. She places a hand on Jason's shoulder, more for her comfort than his.

Talia leans forward and embraces Katniss. "No apologies necessary, Katniss," Talia says. "We know none of this is your fault. Peeta loves Jason. He's always talking about him."

"Gale didn't -- wouldn't," Katniss starts to say.

"Hush," Talia says. "He would never. We know."

Katniss hears a familiar screech from somewhere behind Talia. Jason flinches. "Mama!" he says, tugging at Katniss's dress. Katniss understands. "We have to go," she says. "No, wait," Talia says, giving Katniss a conspiratorial wink. "Stay right here." She closes the door. Katniss can hear a murmur of voices, but can't make out what the people are saying. When the door opens again, Talia's holding a brown paper bag, which she thrusts at Katniss. "Take it! It's just some cheese buns; Peeta said that was Jason's favorite. Come and visit again, Katniss. She's not usually here so we can talk longer next time. There's something I have to ask you." Katniss nods. She and Jason hurry away before Peeta's mother can get to the door.

Earlier that day, Katniss had decided she would go hunting again, at the earliest opportunity. With the rabbit stew gone and the larder empty, she knew it was either that or starve. But now, with Talia's unexpected gift, she doesn't have to worry about hunting, at least not today. She peers inside the bag and counts six cheese buns. Jason pleads to have one as they walk. She sighs. She can't. She decides: Two tonight, two tomorrow. Two days they can go without her hunting.

* * * * *

AFTER THE VICTORY (A flashback)

He came back. Against all odds, Peeta came back.

He stood on the train platform, decorated with garlands. He was celebrated all across the district. He was their first victor since Abernethy, their first victor in decades.

The Mayor embraced Peeta, and then his family. Around them, a crowd of hundreds of people cheered.

Katniss waited anxiously for him to acknowledge her. She wanted to explain her actions, the day of the Reaping. She wanted to tell him she had regretted her actions that day, and would regret them for the rest of her life.

All these things she had wanted to say, but he had stilled her voice merely by raising his hand. There was something cold about him, something -- different.

"You don't have to explain anything to me, Katniss," he had said. "You don't owe me anything. You can be with whoever you want. Love anyone you want. It makes no difference to me."

Katniss stared at Peeta in shock.

He said, "I have to go," and sidled past her. She watched his retreating back and wondered if she would ever again be happy. She'd spent the rest of the day at home, crying in Prim's arms.

"The day of the reaping," she wailed. "I should have gone to him. Afterwards. In the Justice Building."

"He'll forgive you some day," Prim murmured. "He will."

But then there was the steady stream of Seam women who found their way into the Victor's bed.

Katniss heard rumors in the Hob. It was just gossip, she told herself. Just gossip by silly people, who had nothing better to do with their time. But, one day, Stella said loudly, knowing full well that Katniss was only a few feet away: "The Victor's picked up one or two things from his time in the Capitol." Stella is immediately surrounded by a crowd of women. "It would take me hours to tell everything," Stella crows. "After all, I was with him five nights." There are whispers of amazement from the assembled listeners.

Katniss walked away as quickly as she could, but Stella's words were branded into her heart. That night, she let Gale kiss her. It felt wrong, but Katniss tried her best to return his passion. Of course, she accepted his proposal. There was a knot growing inside her. She needed Gale. One day, she might even come to love him.

The night before the toasting, Katniss's mother approached her. "Katniss," she began, "I hope you love him."

Katniss's eyes burned but she managed to say, "I do, Mother. I do." It wasn't the truth but the truth would destroy them all.


	32. GUILT AND CONSEQUENCES

"You don't need to come every day, Katniss," Gale says. "I'm not going anywhere."

"Stop it, Gale," Katniss says. "Just stop it. I want to come every day -- "

"So what part of this is guilt and what part is because you really love me?" Gale says.

Katniss looks quickly up at her husband's face. She expects to see anger. Bitterness. Disappointment. But there are none of these things. "Don't taunt me, Gale," she says. "You know I've been a good wife to you."

Gale shrugs ruefully. "So how's Jason?" he asks.

"He's fine," Katniss says. She hesitates, then decides to tell him. "I started working at the bakery."

There is a long silence.

"You mean Jason started working at the bakery."

"No," Katniss says. "I mean me. They really needed help. And one day Talia came by -- "

The air in the room is suddenly alive with tension. "Talia." Gale pauses, running the name through his mind. When recognition dawns he says, in a tone of pure disbelief, "Rye's wife?"

"Yes, that Talia. Who else would it be?" Katniss tries to keep the annoyance out of her voice, but it's there, and she knows Gale senses it. She decides that now would be a good time to switch the topic of conversation. "Has Haymitch been to see you?"

"Why would he? What have you done, Kat?"

"Isn't he your lawyer?"

Gale grimaces. "I don't care. It's obvious what's going to happen."

"What? What is going to happen?"

"I'm to be convicted of criminal assault on a Victor. The penalty for which is --"

"Don't!" Katniss says. "Don't say it." She closes her eyes. It's like torture. It never ends.

She gets up. "I'm going to see Haymitch. Right now."

Gale snorts. "You're going to see Haymitch."

"Yes," Katniss says.

"He's a drunkard," Gale spits. "Expect him to be of any use? Don't be so naive!"

"I'll see you tomorrow."

"If they haven't executed me," Gale says.

* * * * *

Katniss walks quickly, determined to get to Victors Village before she needs to pick up Jason from school. She is furious. Furious at Gale, for the most part. Furious at Haymitch. And also furious at herself.

She shouldn't have told Gale she'd started working at the bakery. Now he's going to twist it. When all she wanted to do was make sure Jason survived.

Since she started working there, it feels as if a great weight has been lifted from her shoulders. The constant anxiety over food, for one thing, is fading away. And there's also the companionship of Talia Mellark.

Never in her lifetime could Katniss have imagined that she and this woman would have something in common, but in fact they do. Talia sometimes mentions Peeta, and the way she says his name makes it clear that she loves her brother-in-law and wants what is best for him.

Katniss finds it interesting that Talia never once mentions Darna. Not, at least, in her presence.

It's Talia who teaches Katniss about bread -- how to knead it, how to get it to rise. Talia also runs interference with her mother-in-law, who these days hardly puts in an appearance: she's aged markedly in the last year. Now she confines herself to the upstairs quarters, and except for the few times when she happens to catch the sound of Katniss's voice, she is quiet.

There are times, now, when the bakery is so busy that Katniss has to help with customers. She resisted it at first, ashamed of what people would say. But the first time Talia asked her for help at the counter, it only took one look at Talia's face to see that she was exhausted. So Katniss placed a hand on Talia's shoulder and nodded. She took a deep breath, and went up front. She went quickly, so that she wouldn't have time to think. She wished she had time to fix her braid (which always seemed to come undone about halfway through the day), or to check if her blouse was clean. But soon her thoughts were absorbed by the blur of conversation, and now Katniss realizes that the more she talks to customers, the easier conversation comes to her.

And how to thank the Mellarks for all of it. That is where the true guilt lies. In the Seam, people are always careful not to incur debt. Not just debts of coin, but debts of service. The pressure to return a favor can be overwhelming. And when everyone is starving, having to repay a debt could very well make the difference between having barely enough or not having anything at all.

But now Katniss realizes she's forever bound to this family. The kindness with Jason, with her. The bread they send home with her every day. The way they treat her and Jason -- as if they're family.

She swallows, her guilt pressing against her heart. Do they know? Do they suspect?

No, she tells herself. They're just kind, generous people. Like Peeta. Of course they don't suspect.

Thank God, Cray's made himself scarce at the bakery. Occasionally, a Peacekeeper will stop by -- not to bully or snoop around -- but simply to buy bread. Usually, the Peacekeeper is Darius.

The first time Darius drops by, Katniss thrusts a round loaf into his arms. It is still warm from the oven. He tries to protest, saying he only wants one loaf of wheat bread, but Katniss smiles and says, "It's on me, Darius. Gale's told me about how you sometimes slip him extra rations." Darius shakes his head and says, "I wish I could do more. For him. And for you." He accepts the extra loaf, "just this once," he emphasizes.

The only regrets Katniss has about spending so much time in the bakery come late at night, when she's put Jason to bed and she is alone with her thoughts. Then, the images play in her mind, on an endless loop. Peeta is not coming home for the holidays, she knows that. Talia worries about him. Rye tries to allay her fears by telling her, "He's in love, Talia. He probably just wants to spend as much time with as possible with -- " And then he remembers Katniss's presence and stops. Katniss always hastens to reassure them that she agrees that is the reason Peeta doesn't come home. But secretly, she knows it has to be something else.

Once, in between sleeping and waking, she has a vision. It's herself, in a red dress. Behind her is smoke. Billowing smoke. Is it just the surroundings, or is it herself, on fire? She wants to scream, but can't. She looks around helplessly. Where is Jason? Where is Gale? The flames lick against her back, but she feels no pain. Finally, she simply closes her eyes and waits to be consumed.


	33. HAPPY

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Katniss settles in at the bakery.
> 
> Relatively angst-free.

As Katniss walks, she savors the morning air, the quietness. She's just dropped Jason off at school and is heading for the bakery. Weekends, Jason comes with her. He longs for it. Katniss has found that she can use the threat of not bringing him with her as a way to ensure that he stays focused and completes his school assignments. If their weekends before had been rather unstructured, both of them waiting to see what Gale felt like doing, now the days are filled with constant physical activity. In a way, she loves it. So this is what a baker's life is, she muses. It's not an easy life, and she's amazed now at the ideas she and others in the Seam used to have, about the so-called "soft" Merchants.

She and Gale have settled into an uneasy truce over her working at the bakery. She's had to cut back her visits to him to just every other day. Even then, it's still incredibly time-consuming and draining. She almost never mentions the bakery, but Gale's taken to scrutinizing her carefully when she appears, possibly looking for clues in her demeanor or the way she dresses to confirm what he thinks she might be thinking or feeling. She knows he gets regular visits from his family, as well as from other miners and their families, and they must keep track of her comings and goings. She feels like she's a teen-ager again, having to hide things. An old, familiar guilt clenches her heart.When she's within sight of the bakery, she picks up her pace almost instinctively. The bakery is much busier now, with Christmas just around the corner. Katniss relishes the physical activity, the warmth, the smells, the welcoming faces of Rye and Talia. She feels a kind of loosening. Not happiness, exactly. Is it confidence? Or just satisfaction?

She's so far avoided any run-ins with Peeta's mother. She hates the woman with a passion. Once she heard Peeta's mother yell, from upstairs, "Is that slut here again? Don't let her handle the coin! Count it, make sure you count every last one! She's the wife of a criminal!" Katniss would have left the bakery right then, just walked out, left her apron, the dough on the table, the customers clamoring for help, everything -- but Talia put a hand on her arm and looked at her with eyes so full of silent pleading that all Katniss could do was take a deep breath and ask if she could sit on the back steps for a moment.

Talia doesn't have to say it, but she says it anyway. She tells Katniss how grateful she and Rye are for the extra help. Rye is the middle Mellark son. The oldest, Bran, married out of the District. He's happy with his wife's family in 8, and because that's where Prim is as well, from time to time Prim tells Katniss about Bran's growing family -- a girl and a boy, and another on the way.

Rye is a bit taller than Peeta, but has exactly the same coloring and the same broadness in the chest and shoulders. Katniss wonders if it's a trait all bakers have. That was probably why the Mellark boys were so good at wrestling, all three taking home championships year after year. Their practice sessions in the gym were legendary, Katniss blushes to remember. The crowd of giggling girls, watching Peeta and his brothers in their singlets. Afterwards, when she and Peeta were together, she hated that girls looked at him a certain way. She'd scowl and scowl. "Those girls don't have anything on you, Everdeen," Peeta would whisper, always alive to her moods.

There's another reason Katniss looks forward to working at the bakery, and she has to be honest about this one: She longs for any connection at all with Peeta, with his other life -- not the one that is the subject of endless gossip at The Hob, but the life he might have had if he hadn't been reaped. If he'd been allowed to become a baker, like his father before him, and his grandfather before that.

Now, her movements as she goes about her tasks are purposeful, though she knows she isn't even close to being anything as skilled as any of the Mellarks. Baking's in their blood; hers sings for the outdoors. Everything changes, however, when she looks at Jason. He is so at home in the bakery, and it's clear he loves all the mixing and kneading and frosting and arranging. Katniss shakes her head with a rueful smile. She'd never have thought a child of hers would develop so much skill at this. "The boy's got all the makings of a fine baker," she overhears Rye say to Talia one day. Her heart swells with motherly pride in that moment, but plummets to her stomach the next, when Talia says, innocently, "Peeta taught him well."

* * * * *

This year, for the first time ever, the bakery will be open on Christmas Day. It was an idea Peeta had been pushing, the last several years. Now, finally, it will happen. There'll be free bread for anyone who wants it.

On the day itself, a long line starts forming, well before opening. Katniss and Jason are already there, helping Talia and Rye. Even Rye's two young sons help, dashing around and getting in everyone's way. The only ones who aren't there are Bran and his family, and Peeta.

Peeta had wanted a dining area added to the bakery, but he was summoned back to the Capitol before he could get the project started. Still, the Mellarks drag in tables from somewhere, and put cups of hot coffee and hot cider on the tables, and the bakery feels as busy as a regular market.

The Hawthornes come, and Darius, and Greasy Sae and her granddaughter, and Thom and his family, and the other miners and their families, and Rooba the butcher, and even Stella. As soon as she's able, Katniss grabs three loaves of bread and heads for the Justice Building. The Peacekeepers who are on duty welcome the bread, still warm from the ovens. Katniss reserves the last loaf for Gale. There aren't supposed to be visitors on Sunday, but the Peacekeepers make an exception for her. Cray isn't there, which makes it easy.

When Katniss thrusts the bread at Gale, he is wordless for a moment, just standing down looking at it. Eventually, though, he grasps it, then starts tearing big chunks off the end. After a few moments, he realizes that Katniss is standing there, just watching him. He tears off one end, and hands it to her wordlessly. She takes it with a smile.

When Gale's taken back to his cell, Katniss returns to the bakery. By the time Rye and Talia send the last of the bread with a customer, it is late at night. They invite Katniss and Jason to stay over, but Katniss won't hear of it.

On the walk home, Jason is happy, babbling. His cheeks have frosting streaked across them. He's had too much to eat, his shirt buttons strain over his belly. Katniss says little, but she too is happy. Mother and son fall asleep almost as soon as their heads hit their pillows.


	34. THIS HEARTBREAK (PEETA POV CHAPTER)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Being a hero can be so exhausting. This is a looong chapter.
> 
> Trigger Warning: Prostitution in the Capitol, you know what that means.

It's hard to separate substance from shadow in those moments just before night falls, Peeta thinks. He likes watching the sunset, on the few days he can. He's staring out the window now, thinking of his last call home. Rye told him that Katniss had been working at the bakery. Talia managed to talk her into it, Peeta can't imagine how.

Knowing that Katniss is there, in a place that's still so much a part of him -- even if he never sees her or actually speaks to her -- affects his mood significantly. So now they share this, he and Katniss. The knowledge fills him with a kind of raw energy. Some days he even allows himself some lingering hope. He knows he could never manage the separation -- if he went home and saw Katniss every day, he might never leave 12 again.

Snow, ever mailicious, had not allowed the Victors to return to their Districts; they were all forced to spend the Holidays in the Capitol. Peeta expected as much, especially after the scolding Snow gave the Victors at the Training Center. Now they're kept in this swank whorehouse, a stone's throw from the Presidential Palace, and the surveillance is 24/7.

On his worst days, he can barely speak from exhaustion. He'd rather be deaf, dumb and blind for the rest of his life rather than suffer through what he's made to do, night after night.

But it's not just his suffering; it's Darna's, too. She has no one back home, she tells Peeta. And anyway, she doesn't want anyone else now. She only wants Peeta.

He thinks, but doesn't say this aloud, _You're young. You'll learn._

The previous night, he and Darna had to fuck on a dining table. Eight Capitolites -- five men and three women -- had pulled their plush chairs right to the edge of the table, their faces only feet away, and watched, rapt, as Peeta made Darna moan beneath him. There are days when Peeta thinks, Let go, Peeta. Just let go. She'll never be yours, so why not just let go?

These moments, he likes to think, are not moments of clarity but rather moments of weakness. Moments when the Capitol, having squeezed his body of every ounce of pleasure it is capable of extracting, leaves nothing but a hole to be filled with despair.

"Hey," Darna says, coming up behind him. "You're thinking too much again."

He turns away from the window and wraps his arms around her waist. She nestles comfortably against his chest.

"I always know when you're thinking too much," she murmurs.

That was always his problem.

"Would it kill you to let yourself be happy," Darna says. He gives her a small smile. "Who says I'm not?" he says, as he plants a soft kiss on the top of her head.

He refuses to discuss any part of his District 12 life with Darna. He won't, he can't. It's as if, by doing so, he'd be giving up the last small part of him that's safe from Snow.

It's an illusion that anyone can keep secrets from Snow, he knows that. If anything, his recent time in 12 only serves to drive the point home. But he doesn't trust anything he feels in the Capitol. And therefore, he doesn't trust any feelings he might be developing towards Darna. She's his bedmate, sure. She's his co-performer. She professes to love him, but he's not sure she knows how to distinguish between need and love. She's too young. She's too -- damaged.

"Watch it, Mellark," she says. "You know what I can do with these hands." She wraps her arms around his neck.

"And with that we break for the next performance," he quips, pressing a soft kiss on Darna's lips.

"Peeta -- " She pulls away and looks him in the face. Her eyes have a stormy look. Peeta's breath catches. She looks so much like Katniss in that moment. There's an intensity she holds in the depths of her eyes.

She doesn't say anything. Instead, she pulls back and starts to walk away. Peeta stays, watching her. When she's almost to the bedroom she turns her head slightly, not enough for him to see her face, and says, evenly, "Take your pill. We've got to get going."

"Sure," Peeta says.

In the back of his mind is a question, something they've never discussed.

Finnick.

* * * * *

The theater is bathed in a strange light. Orange. No, red.

Peeta looks up once during the performance, only once. It chills him to see he's looking directly into the eyes of Snow. Snow's eyes are as still and dead as granite. Peeta shifts his eyes downward, to the front row, where a shrill woman has been calling out his name all evening. Now, Peeta sees her: she's wearing nothing but a pair of gaudy earrings shaped like chandeliers. She looks straight at him as she offers him her breasts, her gleaming lips parted in invitation.

Darna's right hand comes up and grasps his chin firmly, turning his head back to her. Peeta looks back at her. She drops her hand to his chest and twists his left nipple. This is her signal: she's ready for their grand finale. She arches her back and presses her breasts against him. She parts her legs and cages his hips firmly between her thighs. When he takes a few moments too long, she actually says, "Now!" and presses her heels against his ass, urging him forward.

He wants to drag his eyes away and look at Snow again. Madness, perhaps. But he wants -- no, needs -- to take that risk this evening, he's not sure why. Just then, Darna grabs his head, holds it firmly between her hands, and forces his head down. She's too strong, even for him. And then he stops thinking.

An hour later, he staggers offstage, Darna in his arms. He has to be careful not to trip, people have been throwing things: coin, rose petals, baubles, articles of clothing. His arms are slick with the oil they rub all over them before a performance, but now it's mingled with his own sweat as well as hers. Something light and gossamer lands on top of Peeta's head. A feather? He tightens his hold on Darna and keeps walking. A pair of hastily thrown woman's stockings has managed to wrap themselves around his ankles. The Peacekeepers standing in the wings surge forward.

* * * * *

Darna and Peeta have the morning off. Now they're just lounging around the apartment. They're so used to each other that neither bothers putting on any clothes. Darna reclines on the couch, completely naked except for a pair of onyx earstuds. Peeta's naked as well. He's in the kitchen making coffee.

"So," Darna says slowly, "what's been bothering you?"

A rich, spicy aroma -- a blend of vanilla and cinammon -- begins to suffuse the air. Peeta doesn't answer. Darna wonders if he heard her.

"I thought maybe we could try a few different positions," he says slowly, coming out of the kitchen, throwing her a half-hearted smile. "Maybe not always have you lying on your back."

"Hmmm," Darna says, looking down at her nails. She can't scratch his back if he's lying down. It's a big part of their act. But she does like the idea of exploring different positions with Peeta. Her chest catches a little at the thought. She knows it's a risk loving someone. But she just can't help it. Peeta's a good man. Maybe the only good man in the Capitol.

"Or maybe have you crouching?" Peeta says. "Something more active, like maybe --?"

She knows he's just mouthing things, trying to allay her anxiety. "With rope?" she jumps in. "Like how Cashmere does it?" Peeta and Cashmere have a history. And Darna knows all about it. She asks, Peeta answers. He doesn't play games with her. Not usually.

"No. We can't do what others do. Where's the uniqueness." He purses his lips, the way he always does when he's thinking. She knows all his tells. She's learned his ways.

"Any word on what's happening in 12?" she asks. A look of caution enters Peeta's eyes. "I mean, with the miner." Peeta's eyes lock with hers. Now he's _telling_ her, _ordering_ her with his eyes. _Don't_. His mood has gone from placid to dark in a few seconds.

Darna laughs. "Relax! I'm not really expecting you to answer. I know you hate talking about it." She grabs a throw pillow, places it behind her, and leans back. Absently, she runs her right foot up and down her left calf. She complained of a twinge there, earlier. Peeta gazes at her. In the morning light, she seems so innocent. Almost -- pure.

"Who gave you the earrings?" he asks suddenly.

It makes her hopeful; she didn't think he'd notice. She shrugs. "An admirer."

"Someone I know?"

Darna laughs. "I'm not telling." She hopes it drives him wild.

"Tell you what," Peeta says. "We still have a couple of hours before today's performance. And there's something I've been wanting to ask you. Would you mind if I draw you?"

"What? Like this?" Darna says.

"That sea-glass necklace. Put that on. Nothing else."

A smile teases her lips. "Sure," she says. She hasn't worn it since -- since . . . no point in thinking about it. She leaves to get the necklace.

Peeta thinks of Finnick. He turns to the window. What has happened to his friend? It's been months. Silently, he mourns.

He tries to remember what Finnick christened his boat, the one he worked on every chance he got to go back to 4. It takes Peeta a while, but finally he remembers: The Abalone Pearl.


	35. SHE IS WAITING

Jason's learning geography in school. He's studying the map of Panem, with all the borders of the districts clearly outlined.

He seems particularly fascinated by 4, with its ocean. He remembers Finnick, though Finnick hasn't been on TV for almost a year.

"Mama," Jason asks. "Do you think we could go to 4 one day?"

Katniss is tired. It's been one of those days: she drops Jason off at school, visits Gale, then heads to the bakery. Talia seems tense, and Rye says little. Katniss wonders if they've heard anything from Peeta. But she doesn't. She's afraid that even just saying his name out loud might give away too much. So she bites her tongue and keeps busy. As she's getting ready to pick up Jason from school, Talia says, "I've been meaning to give you this" and hands Katniss a book.

Katniss doesn't have time to look at it properly until after she feeds Jason his dinner. It turns out to be a book of bread recipes. Katniss bites her lip.

"I'm sorry -- what, Jason?" Katniss says. She's reading a recipe for herbed corn bread, which she thinks she might be brave enough to tackle. The recipe calls for two eggs, a scarce commodity in the Seam. She may be able to trade with Greasy Sae for a few.

"Could we go when school's finished?" Jason asks.

"We'll see," Katniss says, absently. "We'll see what happens in a couple of months."

"Maybe we could visit Peeta in the Capitol," Jason says.

Katniss looks up. "No, I don't think so . . . " she says.

"Why not?" Jason asks.

"Peeta's very busy right now," Katniss says.

"Doing what?" Jason asks.

"I don't know. Stuff for the Capitol."

"What sort of stuff?" Jason persists.

"I'm sure that whatever he's doing, it must be very important. Otherwise he'd be home now."

"Oh," Jason says. He bites his lip and looks down at the map of Panem. Suddenly, he has another thought. "What if I wrote him a letter? I'd tell him you're working at the bakery now. And I'd tell him how good I'm getting."

"You could do that," Katniss says, with a pang. "I'm sure he'd like that."

"He'd be proud of me, wouldn't he, Mama?"

"Yes, he would," Katniss says, with a lump in her throat. Jason's questions are starting to make her head ache. But she has to be patient, no matter how his questions make her feel.

Jason looks back at his textbook and sighs. "Do you think Dad will be out by then?"

"By when?" Katniss asks.

"By the time school's out," Jason says.

"I don't know, Jason," Katniss says. "But your Aunt Prim is coming to visit in a couple of weeks." Katniss had just gotten the letter. It gladdened her. Prim would be someone to talk to, someone she didn't have to explain so many things to.

"I hate geography," Jason mutters.

"And why is that?" Katniss asks.

"Because it makes me want to go places. Places I've never been. Places I'll never see . . . "

Funny, that is EXACTLY how Katniss feels whenever she hears gossip about Peeta in the Hob. She tries to put herself in Peeta's place, and imagines walking with him down a wide Capitol Avenue. But of course, it would be three of them walking together. Of course.

* * * * *

That night, when Jason is fast asleep, Katniss lies for a long time, thinking. Then, quietly, very quietly, she gets up.

She's been letting Jason sleep next to her since Gale's arrest, but now Katniss thinks it's time for her to move to her own bed. She sometimes has shameful thoughts about Peeta, and these have been growing in frequency; she is worried that one night she'll cry out his name. She wonders how long she'll have to be alone. It can't be, it's not fair, this wasn't how she expected her life to turn out.

She knows it all comes from thinking too much. From thinking about him, almost every moment she is in the bakery.

She remembers that day the previous fall, when she and Gale and Jason were out together. It was Sunday, of course. And there he was, surprisingly close. Probably the closest she'd been to him since the night before the Reaping. The old feelings came rushing back, and Gale, who was holding her hand, must have felt her reaction to Peeta because he began holding her hand more tightly -- almost, squeezing.

There was such a melancholy look in Peeta's eyes, as they passed. She longed to ask him how he was, to exchange a few pleasantries. But then, he was behind them. She couldn't so much as turn her head. She knew she mustn't.

And now, now -- is Peeta ever coming back? She knows he wants to. Yes, she knows. It's something she knows instinctively, something she knows in her bones. Even if they're not meant to be together, she wants him to be safe.

She thinks Gale can tell, this new flow of feeling from her. He's a hunter, too, with hunter's instincts just as keen as hers. She knows it hurts him. Just as he'd stared wordless at Jason, seconds old, whose eyes were an electric blue, not the cornflower blue of Prim or of his mother-in-law.

Will Prim be able to tell, too? Katniss hopes not.

She looks around at the walls of her tiny home. She's beyond grateful to the Hawthornes, for their loyal and unstinting support. That day Gale was taken away and their home turned upside down was possibly the worst of her life. She couldn't bear that Jason was a witness to her powerlessness. But Rory, bless his heart, had shown up towards the end of the day. He'd probably just finished up at the mines, and yet there he was. He's always been the kindest of the Hawthorne boys. She wishes Prim hadn't met . . .

She takes a hold of herself. Wade, Prim's husband, is devoted to his family. Katniss wonders when she became so moody. It's certainly not like her. She gets up and decides that tomorrow, she'll start preparing for Prim's visit by cleaning the house from top to bottom.

* * * * *

Katniss greets Prim at the train station. The sisters hug for a long time.

"How's mom?" Katniss asks.

"She's fine," Prim says. "She loves working at the hospital, and she's a lot different than she used to be. She's got a good group of friends."

Katniss tries to imagine her mother in the middle of a knot of people. It's hard, the image keeps slipping away. "A good group of friends," she repeats slowly. "Sounds like maybe there's something more to it than that."

"Nope!" Prim says, a little too eagerly. "She really just enjoys her life now."

Their first stop is the Justice Building. Gale greets Prim with a huge smile. In fact, it's probably the first smile Katniss has seen on his face since -- forever. They fall into a light, easy conversation, Prim telling Gale about her children, and her life in 8. Gale seems to listen attentively to everything.

Before they realize it, an hour has flown by. A Peacekeeper comes to tell them their time is up. Gale gets up first, but Prim suddenly goes to him and embraces him. Katniss sees a look of inexpressible sadness enter Gale's eyes. By the time he pulls back from Prim's embrace, however, he's mastered his emotions and summoned up a small, tight smile.

Katniss and Prim don't speak at all until they're well clear of the building. Katniss is lost in thought when Prim says, "Gale looks good, too. Considering."

Katniss frowns. "We don't know how long he's got to wait. The date for the trial hasn't been set."

"But he's keeping positive," Prim says. "I can see it in his eyes. He's determined to fight. That's what I've always liked about him."

"That's true," Katniss says. "He's always had that determination. It keeps him going. But I can't seem to get any answers from anybody. Not even Haymitch, who's his lawyer."

Prim's face darkens. She places an arm around Katniss's shoulders. "What can I do?" Prim says. "How can I help make it easier for you? I can see the toll this is taking on you. You -- you've lost weight, Katniss."

"That's from running around in the bakery all day," Katniss laughs.

"Katniss," Prim says. Her voice is grave. "You can pretend with other people. Not with me."

"I'm fine," Katniss says, sitting up a little straighter. "Gale will be freed. Eventually."

"How's Haymitch -- can you trust him?"

"Of course!" Katniss says. "He's the best we have."

Prim is silent. Katniss knows what she's thinking: Haymitch is a drunk. But there's no one else.

"I just don't understand," Prim says. "Why did Gale attack Peeta? Did you ever find out?"

"It was -- oh, never mind. What does it matter? Gale had been drinking. He was in one of his moods."

Prim seems uncomfortable. "And Peeta decided to press charges."

"No," Katniss says, quickly. "Peeta wanted to forget the whole thing. It's that vile man. Cray. He's -- he's --" Katniss searches for the right word. "Disgusting."

* * * *

Katniss takes Prim over to the bakery later that day, when she goes to pick up Jason. Her son comes running out, crying "Auntie Prim! Auntie Prim!" then throws his arms around her. In his eagerness, he almost knocks Prim off her feet.

Talia and Rye step from behind the counter and smile warmly at Prim. "It's been a while since you've visited," Talia says.

"Yes," Prim says. "It's good to see the bakery's thriving," Prim nods at the tables and chairs. "Seems like you've expanded a bit."

"Peeta's idea," Rye says. "He'd been pushing Dad about it for so long . . . "

No one speaks for several seconds. Then Rye says, "You look well, Prim. Life in 8 must agree with you."

Katniss looks proudly at her little sister. She's filled out quite a bit since the last time Katniss has seen her. When Prim first disembarked from the train, it took Katniss a few minutes of anxious searching before she realized that the pretty young woman in the lavender coat and matching hat, the one walking purposefully towards her, was actually her sister. She holds herself with a new confidence.

"What?" Prim says.

"What do you mean -- what?" Katniss says.

"You were smiling, but not at something I said. It was more like something you were seeing -- in your head."

"Oh," Katniss says. "I was just thinking about how grown-up you are now."

"Katniss!" Prim exclaims, mock stamping her foot. "I'm a mother twice over! It's about time you see me as a grown-up!"

Katniss laughs. "You don't hear me calling you 'Little Duck', do you?"

"Well, _okaaaay_ ," Prim says.

Talia and Rye excuse themselves, saying they need to finish up a few orders, and Katniss and Prim and Jason head home to the Seam.


	36. FINNICK

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings: Snow watching Peeta and Darna. Finnick's a prisoner.

It's just Finnick and Snow in the big viewing room at the Training Center. In front of them is a huge screen which shows Peeta crossing a stage, the coils of a gigantic snake rippling sinuously over his torso. Darna is stretched out on a gigantic bier, her eyes closed, waiting.

"They're amazing together, aren't they?" Snow says. "I'm actually considering sending the show on the road. What do you think of that, eh, Mr. Odair? Who can resist a relationship between a vulnerable and innocent girl and a compassionate -- and experienced -- older man?"

Finnicks grunts. He tries to shrug. It's hard with his arms bound. Snow watches Finnick for a few moments. "Who knew," he chuckles, turning to face Finnick, "that such a backward district like 12 could produce someone like him, eh? He's quite overtaken you on the popularity scale. I never thought I'd see the day. The folks in 12 must be so proud. Don't you agree they might want to see Ms. Keene and Mr. Mellark's act?"

Finnick's head is muddled. He wonders what's in those injections they keep giving him. Now all he sees in his head are the fishermen who cast their nets into the dark, cold water during wintertime in Four. Neither cold, hunger, nor exhaustion diminish their efforts. He swallows.

"I'm always famished after I watch one of their performances," Snow muses. He turns his gaze from the video screen and looks at Finnick. "Would you like to stretch out for a while, Mr. Odair?" Snow smirks. "You look beat."

Finnick grunts.

"I would think physical deprivation would produce quite a great appetite," Snow says.

Finnick shakes his head. "Ah! But you and I both know that it is never too early to eat," Snow says.

He turns back to the screen. Peeta has just flipped Darna over. His head dips toward her breasts. "When I was a child, I liked nothing better than the taste of my mother's fried smelt. Oh, the memory of that fish sizzling in hot oil. She always served it with a few slices of tomato. I haven't been able to get rid of that memory, somehow."

It's crazy, the things that have been popping out of Snow's mouth when Finnick's brought before him. Snow may actually be losing his mind, Finnick thinks.

"And how is our sweet Annie?" Snow says. "I am thinking of having her brought here, just for you."

Finnick struggles against his arm restraints. Snow watches him for a few moments, a glint of amusement in his eyes.

"Oh, Mr. Odair, no need to distress yourself," Snow says. He raises his hand. There's a new person on-screen. It's Annie. She's flanked by two Peacekeepers. She's dressed only in a pair of skimpy black lace underwear. She appears strangely calm, her eyes looking directly at the camera. In spite of his horror, Finnick can't tear his eyes away.

No! he screams inside his head. No! No! No!

"She looks quite delectable," Snow says. "I might include her in a new piece. With Mr. Mellark and Ms. Keene. A three-some! In fact, I may just start writing that script right now."

Annie's lips form a word. Finnick knows. He slumps and closes his eyes.

"It'll be all right, Finn," he hears Annie say. Her voice is eerily blank. "Don't worry."

"Such courage!" Snow says. "Your girl is made of stern stuff! I like that. Very much."

Finnick just grits his teeth. He refuses to respond. Even a single word would feel too much like capitulation. Instead, he looks at the screen, watches Annie.

She's standing still, her hands clasped together. Finnick wonders when the video was taped. He wonders if she's already somewhere in the Capitol.

Snow allows him to look several moments longer. Then, he appears to lose interest. He snaps his fingers. Two Peacekeepers emerge from the shadows to take Finnick back to his cell. When Snow is alone, he looks once again at the screen. He smiles. "Oh my delectable pair," he whispers. "How I will enjoy making you suffer. Your hearts are in the right place. Quite noble, the both of you. But oh, how you will suffer for that."


	37. SPECIAL DELIVERY

Darna sits in the light from the window, still as she can be. Peeta's been drawing her for the last hour. She loves the intensity of his gaze.

"Can I move a little?" she asks. "My shoulders are starting to hurt."

Peeta doesn't answer. Instead, he frowns. He hasn't quite captured the effect he wanted.

Darna stretches both arms towards the ceiling. Peeta looks annoyed. "I'm tired," she says, shrugging her shoulders apologetically. "And we've only got three hours before the performance."

"All right," he says. "I'll stop. Why don't you ring for Harrison?"

Harrison is Darna's masseuse. All the Victors have one; no one can accuse the Capitol of not looking out for its prime performers.

"Aaah," Darna says, getting up. "My muscles are so stiff. Harrison sounds like a good idea."

Both of them know that Snow, who attends every performance, would notice immediately if they didn't give their all. Darna ponders a moment. Massage, or being alone with Peeta? She decides that she'd much rather it be Peeta giving her a massage. His hands can sense where the knotted muscles are, almost by instinct. Not to mention, just feeling his large hands all over her is still one of the most pleasurable experiences she can think of.

"Can I see?" Darna says.

Peeta says, "Sure." Darna walks over, her heart pounding.

What she sees in Peeta's sketchbook is the torso of a naked woman. The woman has her face turned away. Her hair is thickly black and luscious, cascading down her back.

Darna stares, speechless. Is this really her? With her right index finger, she touches the figure. There is something in the way the woman's head is bent that seems unfamiliar. And the waist -- is she really that slender? He's filled in her torso with shadows, and so the woman's body seems shrouded. Her excitement drains away. She feels a sharp melancholy. She looks at Peeta. He's gravely looking at his sketch. He doesn't seem to notice her at all, even though she's standing right beside him.

"Peeta, I -- " she begins. "I don't know what to say."

She swallows. Her mouth is dry.

* * * * *

"Snow requests the honor of your presence. Say nothing to Mellark."

Those are the words on the card that an attendant slipped into her hand, a few moments earlier. It's the third request.

Darna looks at the card and blinks. She feels like she is dreaming. She looks around her. Her dressing room walls are pale blue, like the sky. The plush carpet is beige. Her dresses are scattered about. This time, the card didn't come with a gift. Last time, there were earrings. Before that, a beautiful agate necklace. She's never worn the necklace. It reminds her too much of a collar, the kind clients request sometimes. Even though, of course, it is beautiful. Peeta only had to put it on her once, and she could tell he didn't want to.

She wants to say no. She wants to fling the card to the floor.

Peeta is dressing. Has he, also, received similar requests? If he has, he never mentioned them.

A week earlier, Darna thought she heard a woman's voice coming from his dressing room. She pushed the door open angrily. Peeta was wearing his regular jeans and t-shirt, and had already washed off all the make-up. He probably did it first thing, Darna guesses; she knows he hates the primping and practically tosses the dressers out of his room as soon as he's able to. He was clearly startled, not just by the abruptness of her entry, but by the angry scowl on her face. His face, without the make-up, was Heaven itself. She practically ran to him.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

She didn't answer; instead, she buried her face in his chest.

"You looked angry," he said. "Was there something I -- ?"

She shook her head. She wanted to cry. What if someone took him away from her? What would be left of her? She wouldn't last, without him. They might as well kill her.

"You're trembling," Peeta said. "Something must have happened."

Darna refused to look at him. Instead, she burrowed deeper into him. If she could implant herself on him, she would.

Finally, she whispered, "Are you happy, Peeta?"

"I'm as happy as any one of us can be," he said. "Why do you ask?"

"Because I am happy. As long as I'm with you, I'm happy. And I don't know if you feel the same -- about me."

"Darna," Peeta said, "I'm happy with you. I am."

"No," she said. "No, it's not the same. Do I make you happy? Me, myself? Or is it just that I remind you of someone. Someone back in 12 . . . "

She felt Peeta tense. She knew it. He didn't have to say anything.

"There's no one back in 12," he murmured.

Liar! she thought bitterly. But she didn't say it aloud. Because if she did, it would damn him. Damn both of them. It suddenly became very, very important that she tell him. "I love you," she said.

He became still. Very, very still. But there. She wanted him to know. Before she saw Snow.


	38. NEWS FROM THE CAPITOL

Jason surprises her as they're walking home from the bakery one day. "Mom," he says. "Peeta's getting married."

"Where'd you hear that?" Katniss says, perplexed.

"Valora Pyrmont," Jason says.

Katniss knows the girl. Merchant. What would she be doing talking to Jason?

"It's just gossip," Katniss says. "Probably from some silly magazine." But why, then, was her heart starting to beat uncomfortably fast?

"Valora's mom used to know Peeta in high school. They used to be good friends," Jason says.

Katniss doesn't remember anything about Valora's mom. She tries to recall a name but comes up empty.

She stops walking and bends down towards her son, resting both hands on his shoulders. "And I'm telling you, Jason," she says, "it's just silly gossip. So who're you going to believe: me or Valora's mom?"

Jason's face drops. "Valora says her mom saw it on TV," he says.

Katniss's stomach does a flip. She refuses to believe it, though. "Well, if it's true, I'm sure we'll hear soon enough," Katniss says. "Now, let's hurry home so you can get started on your schoolwork."

Jason nods disconsolately. Katniss's grip on the bag of cheese buns Talia insisted on sending home with her has tightened so much that, without realizing it, she's ripped a hole in the bag. It's Jason who ends up pointing it out to her.

"Watch out!" he says.

"Jason, cut it out!" Katniss snaps.

"No, mom. There's a hole in the bag. Look!"

Katniss looks. Her face flushes. "It's just a little rip, Jason. Nothing's falling out. Let's hurry."

* * * * *

Katniss wishes she had never gotten out of bed.

Peeta and Darna are getting married. She overhears a customer mentioning it the very next day, and Talia confirms it. Apparently, there was an announcement a few days ago, on Capitol TV, but Katniss doesn't ever watch TV unless it's mandatory viewing.

"I suspect they'll be having young 'uns running around before long," the customer says, smiling broadly and winking at Talia.

Talia smiles back politely but doesn't say anything.

Katniss's face falls, and her lower lip trembles, but she doesn't -- refuses to -- show any emotion.

Jason jumps in right then with, "Peeta's going to marry Darna! Are they getting married here? Will I see Peeta soon?"

Talia ruffles Jason's hair. "No, honey," she says, smiling. "The wedding's going to be in the Capitol. But we'll be able to watch the whole thing on TV. Peeta said -- " Talia gives a quick glance at Katniss and stops. "Not for at least another month, though," she falters.

"And afterwards, will Peeta come home?" Jason asks.

"We'll see," Talia says. "We certainly hope so."

"I miss him," Jason says. "He's been gone so long."

"We all miss him," Talia says.

Katniss says she has to fetch her apron and leaves the room. The aprons hang on hooks by the back door. Katniss is about to reach for one when she decides she needs some air. She walks out to the yard. She stands quietly for a few moments, watching the pigs root in the ground. It's unseasonably chilly. She rubs her arms. She doesn't hear when Talia comes up behind her. She nearly jumps when Talia says her name.

"Are you OK?" Talia asks, concern etched on her face.

"I'm a little tired," Katniss says. "I didn't sleep very well last night."

"Was it something to do with Gale? You saw him yesterday, right?"

"I'm seeing him today. After we finish up here."

"Why don't you leave a little earlier, then?" Talia says. "Katniss, you need to rest. These last couple of months -- they've taken a toll on you."

"I'm fine," Katniss insists. "I like being busy. And, frankly, I welcome the distraction. Otherwise," and here her voice, much to her horror, starts to tremble, "otherwise, it's all too much."

"Oh, Katniss," Talia says mournfully, pulling her in for a hug. "You take on everything. And I know you're strong, but we all need a break now and then."

Hot tears start to spill from Katniss's eyes. Talia tightens her embrace. Katniss's face drops down to Talia's shoulder.

"Is it hard for you, being here, being reminded of -- him?" she whispers.

"No," Katniss shakes her head. "No, it's not that at all."

She pulls away and swipes at her eyes. "I'm fine now. Let's go back inside."

Katniss is listless the rest of the day. Rye and Talia are quiet, not saying much, even to each other. Jason, however, is another matter. He's excited, thinking about Peeta. He wants the chance to see Peeta's wife up close. He's seen her pictures in the Capitol magazines his classmates sometimes bring to school. "She's really pretty, Mama," he tells Katniss. "Her hair comes down to here," he says, indicating his waist. "And it's so shiny!"

Later, that night, after Jason has gone to bed, Katniss tosses and turns. The next day is her day for visiting Gale. He'll notice the shadows under her eyes. He'll have heard, probably, about Peeta's wedding already. The guards are terrible gossips, with nothing better to do than look at salacious pictures from the latest Capitol magazines. Darna is their dream girl, the one all the men like to look at. "Lucky dog," she's heard several of the Peacekeepers say, at one time or another, and she knows they're referring to Peeta.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reading this over, I realize this would never have come to be if I hadn't been so affected by mockingjayflyingfree's The Miner's Wife. I lived every chapter of that story, and that's why I wrote this. To work certain things out of my system.
> 
> Thank you, everyone who reads and leaves a comment. I know these are hard chapters for Everlark.


	39. THE RETURN

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darna and Peeta in Twelve!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There was a typo towards the end of this chapter. Good thing juststella caught it! It's quite an important detail.

Peeta comes home. The news spreads quickly. People start dawdling by the train station, wanting to catch a glimpse of him with his new bride, but it turns out he came by himself. This will just be a brief visit; all Snow would grant him was a week. Everywhere he goes, he's accompanied by at least two Peacekeepers.

The first Katniss sees of him is in the bakery. She comes in the door, fresh from seeing Gale, and he's there. He's wearing jeans and a white T-shirt that clings to his body. He looks just the way he did the last time she saw him. Perhaps, Katniss thinks for a brief moment, the past year was all a dream, and now she's woken up. Peeta is home, home at last, where he's always belonged.

As soon as he hears her come in the door, he turns to face her. Whatever she expected to see, she certainly didn't expect to see his face so deeply unhappy. "Katniss, I have something to explain," he says.

"There's nothing to explain, Peeta," Katniss says. "You deserve this. You deserve to be happy."

Why did nobody warn her? They should have. She starts backing away. He takes a step forward.

"If you knew what my life was like, in the Capitol . . . "

She stills him. She's almost at the door. She repeats, slowly, "You deserve to be happy, Peeta. I want you to be happy."

Talia should have warned her. Seeing him now is overwhelming. And he's . . . perfect. And he's good. And kind. And she regrets everything. But this is his chance at happiness, finally.

He gazes at her for a long moment. She can see him struggling with something in his mind. Then, slowly, he nods.

"I can't work today. Will you please tell Rye and Talia for me? I'll head home now." She hates how her voice comes out weak and shaky. She turns and quickly starts to walk away, before he can see how close she is to tears.

* * *

When she picks up Jason from school, she tells him, "Peeta's at the bakery. Can you go by yourself? I have some things to do."

Jason is so excited, he almost starts to run. Katniss watches him through blurry eyes. Quickly, she swipes at her cheeks and starts walking back towards the Seam.

She's almost home when she changes her mind. She turns around and heads for the forest.

* * *

Darna and Peeta are married the following month. The wedding is broadcast live to all of Panem. After, bride and groom are paraded through the streets of the Capitol. Darna holds a bouquet of white roses. She is radiant. The crowd cheers as she smiles and waves. Bystanders throw more white roses at the couple.

Now and then, Peeta bends and plants a gentle kiss on Darna's lips. This drives the cheering crowds wild.

After the honeymoon (to 4, arranged by Snow), the couple make a tour of the districts. Finally, they're at 12. The couple's arrival at the train station is televised. Darna's wearing a white sheath dress which shows off every curve. Her black hair is piled high on the top of her head. But it's Peeta Katniss really watches. He's wearing a Capitol suit, and doesn't look entirely comfortable, but he is beautiful. It surprises Katniss that he doesn't hold hands with Darna, or otherwise touch her. A small knot of Capitol reporters dogs their every move.

Their first stop, it's been announced, will be the bakery. As the couple approaches, Peeta's mother comes running out, shrieking with joy. She throws her arms around Darna to embrace her. Katniss notes that Peeta's mother is wearing a dress that seems new, and a necklace of pearls. She wonders if Peeta provided his mother with the outfit, then decides that he must have. There are no jewelers in 12.

Darna and Peeta enter the bakery with Peeta's simpering mother leading the way. This is the point where Katniss stops watching. Jason is with Rye and Talia, and Katniss doesn't want to be alone. She heads for the Hob. She is surprised that it seems so empty. It takes her a moment or two to realize that everyone, even the sellers at The Hob, are entranced by the televised spectacle that is Peeta's homecoming. All the sellers, except for one. Greasy Sae sits at her usual table, a large kettle of soup simmering before her. Katniss greets her.

"There you are!" Greasy Sae says, and grins. "I knew you wouldn't be into that hoo-ha Snow has arranged."

Katniss can't help smiling. Greasy Sae never changes.

Greasy Sae eyes Katniss's empty hands. "Didn't come here to trade?" she asks.

"No," Katniss says. "Just wanted to get some of that soup."

"You're a wise woman," Greasy Sae says, handing her a bowl. Katniss doesn't miss the appraising look in Greasy Sae's eyes.

Katniss sits down on the single chair Greasy Sae provides for favored customers. She takes a spoonful, but it's so hot it scalds her tongue. She forces herself to swallow.

"Think they're going to live here?" Greasy Sae asks. When all Katniss does is shrug, Greasy Sae continues: "Can't see the wife wanting to settle down here, in such a piss-poor district."

"That's true," Katniss murmurs, keeping her eyes focused on the soup.

"And how's Gale doing these days?"

Katniss pauses. She can't help it when two big, fat tears start rolling down her cheeks. She puts down her bowl of soup. She just can't pretend anymore.

Greasy Sae reaches out and grasps Katniss's hands between her own. "Cry all you want, dear," the older woman says. "Sometimes you need to."

* * *

  
Darna looks around her at the bakery. So this is where her husband grew up! She wants to take in every detail.

Peeta's father looks like an older version of Peeta, or what Peeta might have looked like -- if he'd been allowed to be a baker, stay in 12 . . .

There's a sadness behind the man's gentle smile. Before she can puzzle out a reason, Peeta's mother pulls her forward, pointing out a row of cakes that she says were prepared especially for the occasion and asking if Darna would like a slice of each.

Peeta's mother is a little too vociferous, a little too agressive in her manner. Darna, however, keeps a polite smile on her face, even while demurring at Mrs. Mellark's offer.

Rye and Talia . . . they seem welcoming. And Talia is beautiful. A tall, slender girl, with large, grave eyes that radiate calm.

And that little boy -- is he one of Peeta's nephews? But no, he is dark: his hair is dark, his complexion is dark, his eyebrows are dark, and -- his eyes are blue. Not a pale blue, but a blue like no blue she has ever seen. Not on anyone except -- Darna swallows. Instinct prompts her to bend lower to the boy and ask, "What's your name, sweetie?"

Jason is thunderstruck. After several moments, he stammers, "Ja- Jason."

"What a nice name," Darna says. "Are you Peeta's nephew?" She gives the little boy a dazzling smile.

"No," Jason says. He's mesmerized by Darna's face. His eyes never leave hers. "I'm Hawthorne. Jason Hawthorne."

Ah! Darna recognizes the last name. She extends her hand, and Jason obediently puts his right hand in it.

"Can you show me where your home is, Jason?" she asks.

Suddenly, Peeta's mother can bear it no longer. She jumps in between Darna and Jason, causing them to release their hands. "We have much nicer parts of 12 to look at than the homes of Seam trash!" she exclaims.

Jason reddens. Peeta gently but firmly pushes his mother to one side. "Jason!" he says. "Let's show Darna around, you and me. Would you like that?"

Jason nods, completely dumbstruck.


	40. WHY DO YOU WANT

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here it comes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So many echoes here of The Miner's Wife. Grateful to mockingjayflyingfree for the kickass story, and for being one of the first to leave a kudo here.
> 
> I wish I knew what to do with Darna, though? It's haaaaard . . .

Darna and Peeta will live in 12. They'll still be required to spend every other month in the Capitol, in fulfillment of their responsibilities as Victors.

The house in Victor's Village is more than ample. Upstairs are three bedrooms, and a study with a skylight. There's a guestroom downstairs.

Darna's family -- her parents and two younger brothers -- say on Flickerman that they'll be visiting 12, very soon. "We are so happy for her," says the younger brother.

"And what do you think of Peeta?" Flickerman asks.

"He's the best." This time, it's the older brother answers. "He makes her happy."

After the long day, Darna decides to turn in early. Peeta tells her he's going over to see Haymitch and she tells him to give her regards to the older man. "Hurry back," she tells Peeta.

"I will," Peeta says.

She's curled up in their bed, her eyes already closing, before he even leaves the bedroom.

* * *

Haymitch answers Peeta's knock with ill-concealed annoyance. "What are you doing out here, boy?" Haymitch says. "Don't you and your wife have something better to do?"

"She's tired," Peeta shrugs. "I told her I was going over to see you."

Haymitch responds with a loud guffaw.

"Care to walk?" Haymitch says.

"Not too far," Peeta says. "I'm not keen on bumping into anyone."

"It's late, Peeta," Haymitch says. "Everyone in 12 goes to bed early. Most of them have work, remember?"

"Let's just walk to the gate and back," Peeta says.

Haymitch agrees and they walk in companionable silence for a few moments.

It's Peeta who decides to speak first. Staring into the distance, he asks, "Do you believe that people are hard-wired from birth to look for love?"

"That's a funny thing to say, Peeta," Haymitch says. "Marriage isn't all patches of clover, but what you've got is way better than what you were headed for."

Peeta doesn't respond.

"So," Haymitch says, "it was Snow who arranged everything?"

Peeta nods.

"Thought so," Haymitch says. "But it's pretty clear your wife's in love with you."

"How can you tell?" Peeta asks.

Haymitch throws him a sidelong glance. "I was young once, what do you think. I can recognize the look of someone in love."

"I was young once, too," Peeta says. "Fuck. I _was_."

Haymitch snorts. "You're a lucky bastard," Haymitch says. "And, if nothing else, we know your Mom's happy."

"That's not funny," Peeta says.

"All I'm saying is, enjoy it," Haymitch says. "That's a prize you have there. Treat her well."

"I don't love her, Haymitch," Peeta says. "I wish I did. It would be so much easier if I did."

"Boy, you owe her a lot," Haymitch says. "Being paired up with her -- your life could be so much worse. If I had a woman like that -- "

"She'd be dead," Peeta says bitterly.

"Well, aren't you just fucking brilliant," Haymitch practically spits out. "Little shit."

He turns his back on Peeta and begins walking home.

"Haymitch, wait!" Peeta calls out. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean -- " Haymitch flips him off and keeps walking.

Peeta doesn't follow. Instead, he walks in the opposite direction -- to where, he's not exactly sure. Only after a long while does he realize where his feet have taken him.

There's her house, the light inside. Talia told him how the Peacekeepers practically tore it apart, the day they came for Gale. She told him how the miners and their families pitched in to help. Peeta is so grateful to his sister-in-law. For taking Katniss under her wing. For being Katniss's friend. That, he knows, took courage.

Peeta gazes up into the inky dark of the night sky. It's a surprise to see so many stars. That's a sight he never sees in the Capitol.

"Why am I such a fool," he mutters.

Suddenly, the door to the house opens. Katniss steps out. He's not sure if she heard something or simply needed a breath of fresh air, but with unerring instinct she turns in his direction and sees him. Her eyes seem to blur. Peeta holds his breath.

Even in the dim light from the door, he can tell how drawn her face is. Exhaustion leaks from her eyes.

"What are you doing here," she says. What surprises Peeta is that she shows so little surprise herself. Is it delusion, or is she looking at him that way she used to look at him. So long ago it was, but even after all this time, he thinks he can detect the flare of desire.

"I don't know," Peeta says. Because it's the truth.

"What do you want, Peeta," Katniss says. If anything, she sounds angry.

"You," he says.

"Why?" Katniss says. "Why do you want me?"

"I never stopped wanting you," Peeta says.

Her gaze falters. She bites her lip. "I hate this," Katniss says. "I hate my life. Can you forgive me?"

"I forgave you a long time ago," he says.

Katniss takes a deep, shuddering breath. "I haven't told you -- " She shakes her head, as if she needs to clear it. Peeta steps closer.

"You can't be here, Peeta," she says. "Go home. Go back to your -- wife."

"I'll leave now," he says. But instead, he comes closer. "But not before doing this."

He reaches an arm around her waist and at first she says "Don't" but when he bends down and places his right hand against the back of her head to bring her face closer to his, and when he covers her mouth with his own, she returns his kiss. For a few moments, they forget everything.

She is the one who stops it, she is the one who ends up running from him. It was foolish of Peeta to come to the Seam. And equally foolish of her to kiss him back. Jason was long in bed, but what if someone had seen? It was late, but one could never be sure. Worst of all is that the kiss has changed something inside her. And without her having to say a word, Gale will see. Her unhappiness is familiar to him. This, now. The change. Gale will see. She can hear Gale's voice in her head, saying: _Why, Katniss, for fuck's sake why?_

And then she thinks of Peeta, walking home _to his wife_ , and can't help weeping quietly into her pillow.

* * *

Later in the week, Mayor Undersee throws a welcome party for the newlyweds. What people remember from that night is not just the beauty of the new Mrs. Mellark, but the fact that as the evening progressed, Peeta became quite visibly drunk. Guests even saw -- more than once -- Haymitch putting a steadying hand on Peeta's shoulder. Which struck some as mildly amusing: usually, the shoe was on the other foot. Darna kept her poise, glancing regally over the throng, a fixed smile on her face.

No one from the Seam was invited, of course. Not that they would have cared, one way or the other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "How can you tell?" Peeta asks.
> 
> I tell ya, reading this again, Peeta just . . . 
> 
> He asks Haymitch about love, whether he knows when someone's in love with him. Because he's a prostitute, and he knows people want him, but he doesn't know if he can tell if someone really LOVES him.


	41. A GENTLEMAN TAKES THE SHAPE OF WATER

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darna swanning around Twelve.

The new Mrs. Mellark becomes Twelve's biggest celebrity. There's a steady stream of invitations to dinner including one from Cray that Peeta tosses into the garbage without even opening. From what Darna is able to glean later, Cray's the Head Peacekeeper, a rather unsavory fellow. "He'll probably have his eye on you," Peeta says darkly. Darna smiles. She's used to men having an eye on her.

Now there are always people milling just outside Peeta's house in Victors Village, all trying to get to get a glimpse of the new Mrs. Mellark. Darna laughs and smiles. She is brilliant at playing the role of the gracious wife. Katniss sees her from afar. Later, in the bakery, she asks Peeta, "Do you love her?" He clenches his jaw and refuses to answer.

He leaves for the bakery as soon as he can and often doesn't return until late. Darna is left staring at the mostly empty houses of Victor's Village. She decides she'll have to start taking matters into her own hands, sooner rather than later.

Her first visit is to Haymitch. She has one of Peeta's loaves wrapped up in a dish towel, and places that in a basket, along with some apples and plums from the fruit trees that grow in the backyard. She crosses an unkempt lawn to Haymitch's house. She can hear him cursing at something behind the door and feels reluctant to knock. But, she's a Victor. She's not easily fazed. "Go away!" she hears Haymitch yell. "It's me, Darna," she says loudly. Haymitch yanks open the door and stares blearily at her. The stench of alcohol almost knocks her over.

"Where's the boy?" he says brusquely.

"At the bakery," Darna says calmly. "I thought you might like some bread." She hands over the basket. Haymitch takes it grudgingly.

"Don't make this a habit," he says, and closes the door. Darna stares at it for a few moments, her face pale. She walks back to Peeta's house, determined to find some other way to keep herself occupied.

There is little for her in Victor's Village. The house, while large and generously furnished, feels a little cold without Peeta. She has to go into town.

A few nights later, over dinner, Darna asks Peeta about the bakery expansion. He tells her it's a project he and his father are working on together. His eyes are brighter than she's ever seen them. His whole manner is changed. She lets him talk, doing little other than smile encouragingly. Once, he does mention a -- he almost says a name, but thinks better of it and says, "Mrs. Hawthorne."

"That must be Jason's mother," Darna says, evenly, though her heart is pounding.

She notes a sudden reluctance come over Peeta's face.

"Isn't her name Katniss?" Darna says.

Peeta can't meet her gaze. He nods.

Darna deftly turns the conversation to other matters. But she stores the name Katniss in her memory for later.

From her own quick observations, Twelve is divided into Merchant and Seam. The two classes seem to have little to do with each other. The Merchants live in town. The Seam is somewhere near the mines.

Katniss is from the Seam. Her husband, Gale, a miner, is in prison awaiting trial for assault. Assault on who, Darna asks.

The pause that follows her question is too long. "Assault on me," Peeta finally says.

Darna keeps the smile on her face. Peeta glances at her and, no doubt encouraged by her calm, feels safe adding a little disclaimer. "It was nothing. Just a misunderstanding."

He says that Katniss is a loyal wife who visits her husband in the Justice Building several times a week.

* * *

Darna visits the school. The students stare, awe-struck. She tells them about what it was like growing up, and how she managed to survive her games. When class is over, the students file quietly in front of her, too overcome to do much more than stare.

It's in the long, quiet evenings, however, that Darna begins to feel sad. There is often no one to talk to. For the first time, she feels the silences around Peeta.

There is someone he's protecting, she knows.

* * *

One night, a month after the wedding, Peeta steals downstairs. It's late, Darna's asleep. He's suddenly very thirsty and heads to the kitchen. He stands in front of the refrigerator, hesitating. Moments later, he's walking out of his house and heading towards the Seam. "I'll only be a little while," he tells himself.

As he steps out of his house, closing the door carefully behind him, Darna opens her eyes. She holds her breath. She hears footsteps on the gravel outside and knows it is Peeta. She lies in the dark, waiting.

Peeta doesn't come back for a long time.

* * *

Darna tells Peeta she wants to help out in the bakery. Peeta's first response is confusion. "Why? It's really not very exciting . . ."

"You're always there," Darna says. "Every day. I want to know every part of your life."

"You already know every part of my life," Peeta says.

The look Darna directs at him is steely.

"I'll talk to Rye and Talia," Peeta says.

One day, without telling Peeta, Darna decides to drop by the bakery. Still fresh in Darna's mind is her first night in Twelve. The strange tension she felt in Peeta. He told her he was going over to see Haymitch. And he hadn't come back. Not for hours. She lay awake, seething with anger and frustration. When he finally did return, he didn't come upstairs, to their bedroom. Sometime before dawn, she went downstairs and found Peeta asleep on the couch, wrapped in a blanket. She sat in an armchair facing him and didn't move until he woke up.

It is near midday. Instead of going straight into the bakery, she stands just across the street, watching the people move around behind the big glass front window. Customers walk in and out. She sees Rye and Talia at the front counter. But Peeta -- where is he? For an instant she wonders if he really is in the bakery. Perhaps he is off somewhere else, with someone else. Then she decides she is being foolish. Peeta is a good man. He would never lie to her.

She decides to go into the bakery and inquire as to his whereabouts. But just as she had made up her mind to enter, she catches a glimpse of another person, moving around in the back. A slight woman with dark hair and a quiet demeanor. This woman -- seeing her makes all of Darna's senses quiver. It's her, Darna knows. The mysterious Mrs. Hawthorne of whom she's heard Peeta speak occasionally. This is the mother of the little boy who she met the day of her arrival in Twelve. This is the wife of the man accused of assaulting Peeta.

For a few moments, Darna studies Katniss. There is something vaguely familiar about her. Is it her hair, dark like Darna's? Is it the set of her shoulders? Her slender waist? She's a small woman, much smaller than Darna. She and Peeta are obviously comfortable in each other's presence.

Darna walks into the bakery. Katniss is still at the counter. Her startled gaze meets Darna's. "Oh!" she says.

"Cheese buns," Darna says. "Three, please. Peeta forgot to bring me some last night."

That night, Darna dreams. A strange dream of the arena. The sky spins, there's a burning in her lungs. She tries to force herself awake, to turn on the light, to call out to Peeta, she realizes the dream will end badly, and she is right. The dark-haired woman appears. The woman walks up to Darna and touches her shoulder. Darna sees her holding something -- is it a pencil? Finally, Darna realizes it's a paint brush.

When Darna finally wakes up, it is morning and Peeta is gone.

* * *

One Sunday, Peeta takes Darna to one of the only two restaurants Twelve has. It is owned, Peeta tells her, by the Elphinstones, a childless couple who moved into the district only a few years earlier. She and Peeta spend the evening in rather stilted conversation.

"Peeta," Darna says, "we're the only customers here. Why?"

"People don't eat out much in Twelve," Peeta says, with a shrug.

Mrs. Elphinstone comes out from the kitchen to chat and simper over the two Victors.

"Thank you for gracing our little restaurant," she says to Darna. The woman eyes Darna's belly and says, "You'll be expecting a little one soon, I've no doubt."

Darna smiles, but hesitates before answering.

"Well, not right away, Mrs. Elphinstone," Peeta says. "We want to enjoy each other first."

Mrs. Elphinstone gives Darna a knowing wink. "Oh for sure, Mr. Mellark. But a woman is made to bear children. Don't put it off for too long."


	42. SNARES

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Without waiting for an answer, she says, "I'll go get him now. And . . . I'll go get Peeta, too." The last is an afterthought.
> 
> The trainwreck that is Darna and Peeta continues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finnick makes a brief appearance but Peeta still doesn't know what happened to him, sorry.
> 
> I did not realize until I started re-posting that the chapters were sooooo long. And there are formatting chapters every time I upload. So I have to go back over the whole chapter and manually correct.

There's a story Finnick tells Peeta, that maybe if he swallowed some fish scales, something magical would happen. Maybe he'd turn into a fish boy, with scales head to foot. Peeta remembers watching Finnick take the head of a fish, pop the eye out, and eat it. Some delicacy Finnick had grown up with.

"Good God," Peeta exclaims.

"What?" Finnick says. "Where I'm from, this is a delicacy. It tastes just like hardboiled egg."

"If you wanted a hardboiled egg, couldn't you just order a hardboiled egg? What's the point of ordering a whole fish if that's all you wanted?"

Finnick punches him playfully in the arm. "You will never be a poet, dear Peeta," he chuckles.

That's what he says in Peeta's dream. The one he has a month before he has to marry Darna.

* * *

She knows that their marriage isn't real. But she loves him, that's all. He's kind, and good. She can't imagine being with any other man. Her first night, when he took her, he was so gentle. She thinks she was afraid, then. But afterward, she was never afraid.

And now she hums in the mornings, because hers is a happy life. Or, at least, happier than she'd ever come to expect. Darna and Peeta have nights when their sexual performances in the bedroom in Victors Village are recorded, but the requirement doesn't feel as onerous. It's just the two of them in bed, so what if the cameras are whirring. It's far less exhausting than performing for Capitol audiences in a theater. Darna enjoys having sex with Peeta, she knows exactly how to make him moan with pleasure, she knows how he likes to be held afterwards, she knows the way his face looks just before he's about to come. She knows all these things about him -- her first lover and now, her husband.

The one thing that annoys her is that he won't have her accompany him to the bakery. "I'll take him something," she says. "One of these days." Something he'll like. But what does he like? She notices he doesn't drink as much as he does in the Capitol. He hasn't complained about her cooking but he hasn't praised it, either. Now that they're a married couple, living in 12, he just seems so distracted. She's brought up working in the bakery once or twice. "No," he says. That's it. Just, no. He usually brings her something from there, at the end of the day. He never forgets. But they rarely have dinner together. She waited for him, the first couple of weeks, but then decided she wouldn't starve, stare at the cold food for hours. She goes ahead and has her dinner.

After dinner, she washes up and waits for him in the living room. She sometimes wakes after a few hours, and she's usually still alone.

"This won't work," she tells herself. But she still aches for him.

When he comes home now, he can't exactly look her in the eye. She doesn't want him to have to lie, so she goes upstairs and goes to bed, swallowing her disappointment.

She scans the bedroom she shares with Peeta. There's a large mirror opposite the bed. Darna wonders if that's where the hidden cameras are. Darna looks at herself in the mirror and clenches her fists. The windows on either side of the mirror show that day is breaking. The people of 12 must be preparing to go to work. Her eyes wander back to the mirror. The woman she sees there looks like just her: the woman's eyes are just like Darna's eyes. The cheekbones, the lips, the forehead, the nose. And the woman is crying.

* * *

Peeta leaves very early for the bakery. Darna reaches out an arm and tries to hold him back. "Don't go," she murmurs, still half-asleep.

"I have to," he says.

"Give me a few hours," Darna says. "Make love to me? I know I can make you happy. Let me try, Peeta."

Peeta carefully peels her arm off his waist and leaves the bed.

* * *

For the first few weeks in 12, Darna is blissfully happy. She takes walks, and does simple things like garden. They still have to visit the Capitol every other month, but it's more freedom than she ever hoped to have. And she loves that she gets to be with Peeta in his home district.

Peeta himself, though, is far more detached than he ever was in the Capitol. She watches him walk up the front path to their house, after a long day at the bakery. It's like watching a man swimming against a current. Once, she thinks he even catches a grimace on Peeta's face.

She tries to find out if something's wrong. He says, "Nothing's wrong. Don't worry."

From time to time, the telephone that's a direct line to Snow rings. Always when Peeta isn't home.

"I'm trying," she says. If her voice starts to sound a little desperate, who can blame her?

"Do you love him, Ms. Keane?" Snow asks.

"Yes," Darna says. "I do."

"I believe you do," Snow says. "Then you must try harder."

In her last private meeting with Snow, just before she and Peeta left for 12, Snow asked to see the drawing of the nude woman that Peeta made, a few months before the wedding. She handed it over a little reluctantly. For some reason, it horrified her. Did Peeta even know that Darna didn't recognize herself? That she suspected he drew someone else, someone who resembled Darna but isn't, someone back in 12?

Peeta never makes love to her now, not unless he's directed to do so by Snow. She doesn't know why, but she starts to hate the sight of dark-haired women, dark-haired Seam women. She envies them all.

* * *

Snow is bored. He's been watching Peeta's bedroom in Victors Village, and nothing remotely exciting is happening. His lips curl up. A short while later, he summons a secretary to take down a letter. When he's done, he says, "Send that to 12. By courier. For Cray's eyes only. See if you can locate Jaylene. And the other Victor, Ms. Cresta."

The secretary bows deeply. He maintains the bow while walking backwards, and almost knocks over a vase on a glass table by the door. It sways dizzily. The man blanches in fear. A quick-witted Peacekeeper comes forward and averts disaster.

"OUT!" Snow shouts.

At which point, the secretary falls over in a dead faint, the letter still clutched tightly in his hand.

* * *

Katniss is on her way to see Gale. Is it just Katniss's imagination or does it seem as thought the Peacekeepers who show her to the Visiting Room are a little more brusque? Once, she's even greeted by Cray, for the first time in months. She's disgusted by his leering smile.

"Ah, Mrs. Hawthorne," he says, with an eyebrow raised. "Is there something I can do for you?"

Katniss scowls. "Excuse me," she says, and gives him a wide berth.

She tries to walk past him quickly as possible. Then Cray says, almost breathing down her ear, "Still working at the bakery these days? And how are we getting allong with the new Mrs. Mellark?" Katniss keeps her eyes trained to the ground and doesn't answer. She breathes a sigh of relief when she realizes Cray isn't following her to the room where she's taken to meet with Gale. Darius pokes his head in. "We'll bring him along in a minute," Darius says kindly to Katniss. "Care for some tea?" She shakes her head.

When Gale is brought out, Katniss is shocked to see a marked change in him: his eyes are hollows, he looks as if he hasn't slept at all in the two days since her last visit. She gasps. "What's wrong?" she says. "Are you ill? Have they done something to you --" She moves quickly towards him.

"They're transferring me," he says hoarsely. "I'm to be taken to the Capitol."

"No!" Katniss gasps, shaking her head. "No, no, no. They can't. Why?" She takes Gale's face between her hands and looks up at him. The hurt she sees there is overwhelming. In the look he gives her, she knows that he knows. She can't hide her feelings for Peeta from him, not from the man who's known her best all these years.

After a moment, she asks, "Can Haymitch do something?"

Gale shakes his head. "It's too late for any of that. Cray got a letter from Snow himself. I'm leaving tomorrow. Can you get word to my mother? If she can come . . . "

"Haymitch has to do something," Katniss says. "Does he even know?"

Without waiting for an answer, she says, "I'll go get him now. And . . . I'll tell Peeta, too." The last is an afterthought. But she knows immediately that she will try Peeta first.

Katniss whirls towards the door.

"Katniss?" Gale says.

She turns.

"Hurry," Gale says.

Katniss nods and rushes out the door. She decides to go to the bakery first. She doesn't put much stock in Haymitch. If anyone can save Gale, it will be Peeta. He has to save Gale. He simply has to.

* * *

Katniss bursts into the bakery. She's frantic and wild. And the first person she sees, calmly chatting with a customer, is Peeta. One look at her face and he grows pale. The customer, a woman with a thin, long face who Katniss doesn't recognize, turns and scowls at her.

"Katniss, what's wrong?" Peeta says. He leaves the counter and puts a steadying hand on her arm.

Katniss can hardly get the words out. Peeta leads her to a chair and makes her sit down.

"Gale," she gasps. "Moving him to the Capitol."

Peeta's eyes widen in alarm.

"When?"

"Tomorrow."

He gets up immediately. "Stay here," he tells her.

"Where are you going?" she asks.

"Just. Stay here. I'll be back."

"No, I want to come with you," Katniss says, grabbing Peeta's hand. "I want to come with you." She's forgotten about the customer, the woman who stands now, looking at Katniss with an expression of deep dislike.

Peeta says, "No! Just -- trust me. I'll be back."

Katniss nods and Peeta rushes out. Then the woman, who's been standing there the whole time, crosses right in front of Katniss on her way out the door. Just before exiting the bakery, however, she stops and turns. "Aren't you the mother of Jason? Jason Hawthorne?" the woman asks.

Katniss stares. "I'm sorry," she mumbles. "I don't believe we've met."

"My son is two grades below Jason," the woman says. "It's such a small school."

Katniss shifts uncomfortably.

"I didn't realize you knew Peeta so well," the woman says.

"We were schoolmates," Katniss says.

"Ah!" the woman says. "With Delly Cartwright."

Katniss wishes the woman would just go away. "Yes," she says. "With Delly Cartwright."

"Delly married my older brother, Renwick. They've a little girl, not yet in school."

"Oh," Katniss says.

"Pity we don't see Peeta's wife around much," the woman says.

"She's probably still getting used to 12," Katniss says.

"Of course. That must be it," the woman says. Then, she thinks of something else. "Jason works here, doesn't he?"

Really! Katniss thinks. "I'm sorry," she says. "I didn't catch your name, Mrs. -- ?"

"I'm Ingrid Cronin," she says. She doesn't extend a hand.

A nerve in Katniss's temple starts throbbing.

"Well, I was just in the middle of ordering a birthday cake for my son when all this excitement happened," Mrs. Cronin says. "I suppose I'll just have to come back tomorrow."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt, it was an emergency . . . " Katniss manages to say.

"Well," Mrs. Cronin says. "You seemed awfully upset. I hope it's not too terrible?"

"No," Katniss says. "It wasn't."

"I wish Mellarks wasn't the only bakery in town," the woman says.

Katniss stands. "I can take your order for you," she says.

"Oh, please!" the woman says with a chilly smile. "I can return tomorrow. Please tell Peeta."


	43. SO THIS WAS WHAT I MEANT TO SAY

Peeta doesn't want to be in Cray's office right now, he hates that Cray sits facing him across a heavy desk, he hates sitting in a stiff-backed chair, he hates all the trappings of authority he can see on the walls of Cray's office: the Capitol medals, the framed commendations, most of which bear the signature of Snow himself. But most of all, he hates the fact that Cray now has power over Katniss, now that he has Gale in custody. And Peeta is in no doubt what Cray wants Katniss to do if she wants Gale released.

It will never happen, Peeta promises himself. It will be over his dead body.

"Mr. Mellark!" Cray says, with what appears to Peeta totally unnecessary obseqiousness. "Fine day, isn't it? Now, what can I do for you?"

Cray's face radiates an almost preternatural calm. Peeta wants nothing better than to hit him. Lay into him. Anything.

He knows that he and Cray share the same predilection for Seam women. Peeta has seen all too frequently the Seam girls leaving Cray's house absolutely shattered, sobbing and trying to hold their ripped dresses together. Cray fancies them young, however. Too young. It makes Peeta's blood boil.

Thank God Katniss never went that way, Peeta thinks. That is the one thing he has to thank Gale Hawthorne for.

"Am I to understand that Gale Hawthorne is being transferred to the Capitol?" Peeta begins. "Tomorrow?"

"Ah!" Cray smirks, leaning back slightly in his chair. "Mrs. Hawthorne has been to see you. That certainly didn't take long." Peeta stiffens. Cray smirks. "I forget, she and her son -- Jason, is it? -- work for you now. Your concern for your employees is quite touching. Given how much the miner hates you -- not, I may add, without due cause -- that must have been like throwing fuel on the fire. Strange what desire makes foolish people do."

Peeta levels a cold gaze on Cray. Any other man might tremble before that gaze, but not Cray. "What are you insinuating?" Peeta says.

Cray looks straight at Peeta. Peeta's face gives nothing away. Cray sighs and continues, "Well, well, let us not waste time in argument. I would very much like to accommodate you, Mr. Mellark, but this case is strictly on a need-to-know basis. I'm afraid I can't tell you much more than what you already know."

Peeta says, "You're never going to understand, are you?"

"Excuse me?" Cray says.

"You're never going to stop whatever perverted fantasy's going on in your head right now," Peeta says. "You think if you keep this up -- whatever this sick game of yours is -- you can bend her to your will. She's another man's wife. Doesn't that count for something?"

"It should," Cray says softly. "You of all people should know that it doesn't."

Peeta's face turns dark, but he doesn't answer, only clenches his fists.

"Well, I suppose, Mr. Mellark, we are the same creature then. One and the same. When it comes to that."

Peeta utters an oath.

"Oh let's not be too hasty, sir," Cray continues. "But I ask myself: Why does a fine Victor like you want to get mixed up in the miner's affairs? I ask myself: What's in it for HIM? And then I realize, it's the boy."

"Are you mad?" Peeta says. "Don't bring the boy into this. He has nothing to do with this."

Cray stares at Peeta for a few moments, seemingly stupefied. Then, he breaks into a chuckle. He shakes his head. As if talking to himself, he says, "What a magnificent creature she is. Truly magnificent!"

Looking directly into Peeta's eyes, Cray says, "I too want justice. So does our esteemed President. You may not have pressed charges, but we can't have miners going around threatening our precious Victors, can we now? He was disturbing the peace, there's the long and the short of it."

Peeta is silent.

"Go home, Mr. Mellark," Cray smirks. "Enjoy your wife's company. She probably misses you. Eh? Enough of this foolishness with the miner's wife, eh?"

"What foolishness? I'm sick of your insinuations,"

"Mr. Mellark, what do you know of my job? I've been Head Peacekeeper here since you were a wee lad. I know everything about you, your family, and every other family in 12. I knew how the apothecary's daughter broke your father's heart when she ran off with the miner. I knew your mother regularly delivered black eyes to you and your brothers, but most especially to you. I knew you were pining after the Everdeen girl -- you can see I'm not stupid -- and I knew how she broke your heart when she up and married Hawthorne. Though I don't see how any woman in her right mind would ever turn her back on a Victor! That never ceases to surprise me. And now, here you are, a beautiful wife waiting for you at home, and you're playing some sort of White Knight and comforting the Seam woman while her husband's in prison. Why, the way I see it, you ought to be thanking _me ._ . . "

Peeta reaches across the desk and punches him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cray knows what Jason is. Or, at the very least, he suspects.
> 
> But he also knows that PEETA (bless his being so dense about this one point) doesn't know.


	44. HE SHOULDN'T HAVE

Peeta knows he shouldn't have done it. It was Cray's sly smile as he unspooled Peeta's whole life that undid him.

Cray is taken completely unaware. He starts to sputter, "Mr. Mellark!" But it doesn't matter. Because a black rage has taken over Peeta. He grabs the front of Cray's shirt and, swinging and swift, he punches the other man's jaw -- again, again, and again, four hits to the face, with all his might. In his head, Snow's voice, mocking: _Kill him, Peeta. Why don't you kill him?_

Cray almost goes down. His feet scrape the floor and then, at the last moment, he rights himself. His expression is a blend of surprise, anger, and -- fear. Peeta releases him, and growls, "If you so much as touch her, I'll kill you."

"All this for a Seam bitch?" Cray gasps. "Snow will hear of this!"

Peeta's jaw tenses. He walks out.

Cray falls to his knees. Sticks his hand in his mouth and pulls out two teeth.

* * *

Peeta returns from the bakery in a black mood, nursing a hand that was swollen (from what, she knew already; Snow had called an hour earlier. Bad news, always bad news. She'd willed her pulse to calm down. She'd closed her eyes and concentrated on breathing)

His breath stinks of liquor. He passed by a bar instead of coming straight home. He tried to drink away his guilt. The alcohol seemed to swarm in his veins and kept his head buzzing.

"What happened?" Darna asks, even though she knows already. Sympathy and anger war in her heart.

"Had a disagreement with someone," Peeta mutters.

"With who?" Darna asks, seating Peeta on the couch and stroking his rather feverish forehead.

"It doesn't matter," Peeta says. "Forget it."

"Did you kill him?" Darna has to ask. After all, Peeta is a killer. As she is.

"No," Peeta says.

"Good," Darna says. "Come upstairs and I'll put some salve on your hand."

Peeta follows her reluctantly. He doesn't like going to their bedroom. In fact, he hates it. Because of the camera in the ceiling.

"It'll be fine," Darna murmurs, laying him down on the bed. "Shhhh."

 _All of 12 knows_ , Deena thinks. _He shouldn't have done that._

After she's sure Peeta's gone to sleep, she goes downstairs and picks up the phone. She has no choice. _  
_

This is not right, Darna thinks, when she hears Snow's voice. Peeta would never do this to her. She knows he is an honorable man. She almost felt tempted to tell him, _Snow told me. I know everything_.

But she didn't. It was a relief to Darna to discover that she still put herself first.

 _I can survive this_ , she thought.

* * *

Cray calls Snow. Snow looks at his bruised eye and chuckles.

"Excellent, excellent!" Snow tells Cray. "I always knew he could fight. Mr. Mellark seems quite unable to control his emotions when it comes to that Seam woman. Darna will be apprised. In the meantime, video?"

Of course. Cray nods.

"Want me to tell the wife, or -- "

"I shall deliver the news. She won't be too happy, I'm sure. Keep me posted, Cray. If this keeps up his wife will have his balls on a plate. I may hand the Hawthorne woman over to you myself. The husband will not be a problem."

Then Snow thinks of something else.

"Mr. Cray," he says. "Let's give them a few days more to worry their little heads. You may inform Mrs. Hawthorne that we've decided to be lenient and allow her lawyer a few days to collect himself. It's Monday today, so, let's see -- shall we give them till Friday?"

Snow ends the call.


	45. WHAT ELSE?

The next morning, Peeta walks slowly back to the bakery. He takes the long route, passing through a less kept up neighborhood. Houses are small and shabby. Not quite as bad as the Seam, however. Peeta clenches his fists, thinking of Katniss, and the Seam families. And the mines. The conversation with Cray runs over and over in his head. How he hates all of it.

Darna was kind, when he got back home last night. She didn't expect him to "perform" as a loving husband, not after what he'd just been through with Cray. In return for her kindness, he put his arms around her as they lay in bed, and waited until her breaths evened out. He knows it was a mistake to try and intervene in the miner's case. But what else could he do? The miner was in prison because of him, Peeta. He lost his family because of him, Peeta. Peeta had to make it right.

* * *

There's regret and exhaustion etched on Peeta's face when he walks into the bakery. Katniss's face is drawn, she's attempting to make polite conversation with a couple of customers. Once they leave, Peeta asks where Rye and Talia are. He can't have this conversation with Rye and Talia listening. Even though he trusts them, he wants to keep the tangle with Cray from worrying them.

"They weren't here when I arrived," Katniss says. She looks expectantly at him. He shakes his head and mouths, I'm sorry. She grows pale.

"You need to go see Gale. There's not much time," Peeta says.

"Would it help if I brought Haymitch?" Katniss asks.

"It won't do much good. Cray and Snow are determined to make an example of Gale. I'm sorry, Katniss."

She nods. "I'll go get Jason on my way to the Justice Building," she says.

For a woman whose husband is about to be shipped to the Capitol, Peeta thinks, she looks unnervingly calm. She's removing her apron when two young women enter the bakery. They stare unabashedly at Peeta.

"What can I get for you, young ladies?" he asks, even forcing a smile.

"Apple tart, please," one of the women asks. "Two of those."

Katniss doesn't catch Peeta's response. At the door, she almost knocks over Rye, who's just hurrying in. "Katniss!" Rye says. "I'm sorry. One of our boys has a fever. We've been up all night. Talia won't be in today -- "

"I have to go, Rye," Katniss says. "Cray's having Gale shipped to the Capitol. I don't have time to explain. Peeta will tell you. I have to go."

Katniss pushes her way out the door.

As she walks -- no, runs -- to Jason's school, she's filled with anger, guilt, regret. She hates the Capitol, so much. Snow ruined her life, and now he's ruining Gale's and Jason's. No humiliation is too great. The Capitol takes and takes and takes. A strange thought flits into her mind. Is it true what they gossip about in the Hob -- that there's a rebellion brewing? If so, there must be people in Twelve who would know. The way she feels, she would sign up in a heartbeat.

The teacher startles when Katniss bursts into her classroom. "Jason," Katniss says. "There's something. A family emergency. Can he be excused just for one day?"

The teacher murmurs, "Of course!" She turns to Jason, who's sitting very still, white-faced, at his desk. "Take your things, Jason."

"What's the matter, ma?" Jason asks, as soon as they're out of the classroom.

She stops. She turns Jason to face her. She puts both hands on his shoulders. "You have to be brave, Jason. Are you a brave boy?"

Jason nods.

"They're sending your dad to the Capitol. It may be a while before you see him again."


	46. JASON

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First Jason point of view chapter!
> 
> Sorry it is so short. But it's a completely new direction. It will delay Peeta's and Darna's return to the Capitol (which is inevitable, just so you know I plan to follow the original ending)

There's a crowd of about a hundred people by the time Katniss and Jason get to the Justice Building. Jason's schooled himself not to cry. He's confused. His mother stops walking; so does he. He thinks he sees his Uncle Rory in the crowd and tugs at his mother's hand, but she isn't paying attention.

The crowd masses against a line of impassive Peacekeepers, Cray standing on the steps behind them. "Citizens!" he shouts. "Citizens, return to your homes! Or I shall give the order to shoot!" Instead, however, the crowd surges forward. Shots ring out; several people fall. Katniss screams. She places a hand over Jason's eyes and tugs him backward.

They turn down a street. Katniss removes the hand that's covering Jason's eyes. She bends down, hands on his shoulders. "We're going to the bakery, okay? Peeta can protect us. When I say, Run, you run. Do you hear me, Jason?

Jason nods, his eyes big and round.

* * *

The beginning. It started with hiding under the quilt. His parents were always arguing. When he was older, he would crawl out of his bed and sit outside, hands over his ears. Even during the winters. He didn't like loud noises and was easily startled. His cousins teased him mercillesly.

His mother always came looking for him. She'd take his hand, tuck him under his quilt, and lie next to him. Sometimes, she was crying. But she'd hold his hand. And he felt safe, with her.

The next time Jason awoke, his mother would be gone from his bed. He would press his ear next to the bedroom wall, trying to check if his father had left for the mines.

His father, physically very healthy, a miner all his life, began to cough, over the past two years. They couldn't afford the Merchant doctor, so they tried the Seam healer. Jason's father described his symptoms: not being able to hear, a lot of the time. A gradual loss of his neural control (peeing in the wrong place, etc)

The healer prescribed a healthier home diet (More fruits and vegetables!) and a lighter schedule at the mines, which Gale absolutely refused to request. Katniss's mother gave him supplements. "Keep him warm, Katniss," she would say. "He needs rest. Let him sleep." That was when his mother began to sleep in Jason's room.

Maybe this was the reason his father grew angrier over time. Sometimes he would call out gruffly, "Katniss!" and his mother would have to rise and go to him. Sometimes Jason listened to her sobbing behind the wall, the sound beyond sad. And then he curled up under his blanket, feeling alone and bereft.

His aunt Prim was nice. She gave him a cat with one yellow eye. She said the cat's name was Buttercup. Jason loved the cat; his mother didn't. Yet it was the one joy in Jason's life. Until Peeta and the bakery.

* * *

He and Katniss take side streets to the bakery. There are people wandering the streets, stunned and crying, some with blood pouring from their heads.


	47. RECALL

District 12 appears to be going up in flames. The streets are filled with angry miners. A train full of Peacekeepers arrives from the Capitol. There's a curfew now: 5 p.m. to 7 a.m. Gail languishes in his cell in the Justice Building.

Peeta continues his routine. He wonders what Darna does all day by herself? He assumes she does as he does: goes through the motions.

When Peeta gets back from the bakery one night, Darna's asleep. Or pretending to be. She keeps her eyes closed as he sits on the edge of the bed and quietly slips off his shoes. His eyes roam restlesslessly around the room. What is he looking for? What does he want? Is he so selfish? There is another life -- or two, or three -- who will be irreparably damaged by any decision he makes now.

The white envelope is on his dresser. Peeta wonders how he could have missed it. It's addressed to "Mr. and Mrs. Peeta Mellark." Picking it up gingerly, he feels dread. He decides to bring it downstairs to the kitchen. He snaps on the light and sees that the letter's been opened. So Darna's already seen the contents.

"Dear Mr. and Mrs. Mellark," the letter from Snow begins, "I trust you have had a pleasant and enjoyable rest. Your duties in the Capitol, however, await." He reads the letters two times more. He can't seem to absorb the sense of it. He holds it, and feels he's grown two heads. Or two arms. It feels that strange.

Peeta and Darna are being recalled to the Capitol. They're expected in three days' time. Peeta rubs his had tiredly over his face. Three days!

He decides to have a glass of water before going up. He fills his glass at the sink and then looks around him. He realizes he's trying to memorize everything. Something in his gut tells him he might not be back. He doesn't know how he'll tell Katniss.

When he returns the bedroom, Darna's no longer lying down. She's seated in an armchair by the window. As he approaches, she looks up at him, her eyes filled with tears.

"I'm sorry," she says.

"You read the letter," he says. It's not a question.

"Yes," she nods. "What are you going to do, Peeta?"

"Nothing," Peeta says. "We'll go."

Darna goes up to him, twines her arms around his neck, urges him down on the bed. "We could have a baby," she whispers.

Peeta doesn't answer. His eyes go to the ceiling. He wonders if this is something they told her to say. It probably helped that she wanted it for herself.

His gaze returns to Darna. Her cheeks are flushed. He thinks of the bakery, working there with Katniss and Jason. So much happiness. Days when the bakery was quiet and it was just the three of them, he and Katniss watching as Jason sat at a table and did his homework, his mouth smeared with cheese and butter from eating one of Peeta's concoctions.

They get into the bed and he wraps his arms around her. Darna presses her lips against his ear and whispers, "Don't worry. We'll protect each other." His gut twists. It's an illusion, this feeling that they can protect each other from anything. But he chooses not to respond, instead pressing a chaste kiss to her forehead. Eventually, Darna's breath evens out. But Peeta's mind races. He dreads the fresh humiliations awaiting him in the Capitol.

_What if he decided to stay? What would Darna do?_

She said they could have a baby. He knows she wouldn't have said it if Snow hadn't proposed it first. Would it be so bad? He can imagine himself getting excited about it, like any new Father. And it would make _her_ happy. Whereas he . . .


	48. REBELS

It's been a very long night. Katniss hardly slept. Peeta wasn't at the Bakery yesterday, and judging from the long faces of Rye and Talia, something bad has happened to him. She's almost tempted to go to Victor's Village and find out for herself. But the thought of talking to Darna -- Peeta's wife makes no secret of her disdain for Katniss -- deters her. And she'd have to bring Jason, because she can never let him out of her sight, now. School is done for the year -- at least, that was the message yesterday from the few people who worked there as custodians. The classrooms are locked up tight, the main gates are shut and barricaded.

Instead, she decides to head back to the Justice Building. It might be dangerous, but it's the only place to go, if you're from the Seam. Most of the people massed there will be Gale's fellow miners and their families. They will not let the Capitol take him. "We've lost far too much already," Rory Hawthorne told her, when he came to check on her and Jason, the previous night. Katniss had the feeling he wasn't just referring to Gale.

In front of the Justice Building are the remnants of what must have been a large bonfire. Now, all that's left are spirals of smoke. Cray stands on the steps, speaking through a megaphone.

"I am imposing a 24-hour curfew!" Cray announces. "Anyone who violates the curfew will be shot on sight. It starts 5 p.m. tonight."

The crowd mutters in anger. Katniss stalls, tries to center herself. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Rory Hawthorne. By his side is Posy. On Posy's other side is -- Katniss's mother-in-law. The Hawthornes stand near the front. From the defiant looks on their faces, they plan to stick it out. But what can they do? The Peacekeepers have guns, and --

Is Gale even still in the building? They could have smuggled him out, she won't put anything past Snow -- or Cray, for that matter.

Katniss heads for Hazelle. When she's close enough, she says, "Hazelle, can I leave Jason with you for a little bit? I have to get inside, see if Gale's all right."

Hazelle seems surprised to see Katniss. But, with a grim nod, she takes Jason by the hand. "Good luck," she murmurs.

Jason clings to Katniss, shaking his head. "Mama, don't go!" he pleads.

Katniss bends down so she can look her son in the face. Her breath catches. The older Jason gets, the more striking his blue eyes become. Everyone said the color would fade with time and become more like Gale's. But that never happened.

In fact, if Katniss were to really think about it, Gale's behavior began to take a decided turn for the worse when Jason started attending school. When the blue in his eyes became more, not less, pronounced. She used to tell Gale that Jason was looking more and more like Prim every day, but she knew her husband didn't buy it.

 _He could have ruined me, but he didn't_ , Katniss thinks. _Maybe he grew to love Jason, too._


	49. FINNICK

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Setting: The Capitol
> 
> Finnick's being tortured (He's not dead, at least)
> 
> This chapter was in the original. I didn't change anything. But it IS dark. So, skip if you're not in the mood to handle depressing stuff.
> 
> May I recommend the awesome 26.2 (authoresskika). I'm still in mourning over her passing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: Torture, Sadism etc.

"The question is, how much did Mr. Mellark know, and when did he know it?" The three interrogators ask Finnick this, over and over again. When, after some weeks, Finnick still refuses to cooperate, the three gather in a corner and confer in low tones. Finnick watches dully. His hair is matted with blood and sweat. He can't remember the last time he's seen a bed. He wonders who they have in the other cells; it's become so quiet, the last few weeks.

One of his interrogators leaves the others and approaches him. "We've heard from the President. He'd like you to be taken to him."

Finnick shrugs. It's nothing to him. Maybe he's dying?

"Your friend," the man says. "Annie."

Finnick freezes.

"Ah!" the man smirks. "Your lover, I should say."

Finnick tries to say, _She isn't_.

"You expect us to believe that she's nothing but a friend?" the man says.

Finnick nods. What else can he do?

The man turns to the other two, still standing in the corner. They look expectantly at him. "Him or her?" the man asks his companions.

"Him, of course," the man says.

"Or should we do both of them," the man close to Finnick says.

"Well, you were always one to come up with interesting ideas," says one of the other two.

"I've been inspired on occasion," the man closest to Finnick says.

"Just spit it out," Finnick grunts. _Because there's a field in his mind he wants to get to. And the fastest way to get there is of course to . . ._

The man looks at him, eyebrows lifted. "He speaks!" he says, voice dripping with sarcasm. "And here we thought you'd been turned into an Avox. Though that would have been a terrible waste. You're so good with your tongue, after all. Though we hear Mellark might be even better. Well, Mr. Odair, this is a job. Just a job for the three of us. I'm sure you won't hold this against us. You know what it's like working for Snow. In Panem, we're all pretty much fucked, aren't we?" The man laughs uproariously.

Finnick is terribly confused. He only prays they don't lay a hand on Annie. Is she already here? He fears the worst. She might survive, for a time. But they might do things to her -- her brain. He's seen those women, wandering around Snow's rooms as if lost in thought, barely able to remember their own names.

 _Please_ , he thinks. _Please don't turn Annie into one of those._

Could he strike a bargain with these people? He'll do anything to save Annie. He should have known the rebellion wouldn't work. He'd lost sight of his own greatest weakness. Should he give up a name? Will that be good enough?

_The Capitol's one fucking wall of mirrors. It's all too easy to lose oneself, over and over and over again, in reflections one thinks are real but aren't. To chase after a mirage._

But -- what if they hadn't caught everyone? Peeta, for example. He's still performing. He's managed to find a way to survive.

Good for him, Finnick thinks dully. As for himself, Finnick knows he's fucked.

"Water," he gasps.

"What?" one of the men says, hearing.

"Water," Finnick repeats, louder. "I'm ready to talk."


	50. THE CAPITOL AGAIN

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything after this chapter will be very different from the original.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have an idea, but the only way I can pull it off is to have Peeta back in the Capitol. SORRY!

The train to the Capitol moves swiftly. Darna lies curled up against Peeta's side. He marvels at her ability to fall instantly asleep, no matter how distressing their days have been. Peeta, however, remains restless, staring into the dark. Once, he feels Darna stirring in his arms. He tightens his grip on her and she sighs and murmurs his name. She continues sleeping.

They arrive without incident. The train station is dark and strangely empty. Two Peacekeepers help them with their luggage and drop them off at the Victors' Hotel. Darna falls on the bed, eyes closed, almost the minute they're alone. Peeta quietly gets her shoes and dress off, then raises the blanket over her shoulders. He debates going to the liquor cabinet, but stops himself. Instead, he quietly removes his clothes and lies down on the bed next to Darna.

It feels as though he's just closed his eyes when he hears knocking on the door. He wonders if he can ignore it; pretend sleep. A glance at the clock on the nightstand tells him it's only a little past six. His teeth clench. The person at the door keeps knocking. He slides off the bed. He's just leaving the bedroom when Darna calls to him sleepily, "Who's that knocking?"

"I don't know," Peeta says. "I'll find out. Go back to sleep."

Peeta throws on a robe and goes to answer the door. He's barely opened it when rough hands seize him. "What's this about?" he protests.

There are two Peacekeepers. The one on his right says, "President Snow wants to have a little chat."

"Of course," Peeta says. "I wish you'd let me put on some clothes."

He catches the Peackeepers smirking at each other. Right. His naked body's been on view for all in the Capitol, many times. Why should he worry about clothes?

"This won't take long," says the Peacekeeper on his left. "In fact, President Snow's here."

"Where?" Peeta asks, in some confusion. "At the hotel?"

Without speaking further, the Peacekeepers drag Peeta into a room just next to the bank of elevators. He's thrown roughly onto a couch and told to wait. A few minutes later, Snow walks in.

"Mr. Mellark!" Snow says curtly, his eyes raking over Peeta's form. "I thought it would save time if I came here. Let's not beat about the bush. I'm here about the list."

"List? What list?" Peeta says.

"Ah!" Snow says. He turns his back on Peeta, as if deep in thought. "Well, that was something I hoped you could help me with. You with your extraordinary attention to detail."

"If you could -- just -- enlighten me, I'm a little slow this early in the morning," Peeta grits out.

"Enough!" Snow says, turning. "I know all about the rebellion Mr. Odair's been planning. For years, it seems. And since you and he are the best of friends, I thought it most likely you were in on it, eh? He wouldn't leave you dangling in the dark all this time, would he? Especially after he found out how badly you wanted to return to your family business -- that preposterous bakery in 12! Like I'd fall for that stupid drama. You under-estimate me, my dear Victor."

"There's nothing wrong with being a baker. You make it sound like it's some sort of -- _disease_ ," Peeta says.

"Ha! Ever the silver tongue," Snow barks. "From you, I would expect nothing less. Let me see: between your not knowing and your knowing, I'm rather inclined towards the latter."

Peeta swallows. "Finnick's a friend. Nothing more."

"Pardon me if I find that rather hard to believe," Snow says.

"He's all talk, if you know what I mean," Peeta says. "There is no rebellion."

"Unfortunately, we're way past the stage of denial, Mr. Mellark," Snow says.

"You need him, Snow," Peeta says. "And you need _me_."

"Indeed?" Snow says, eyebrow raised. "What do I need the both of you for?"

"To keep your people in the Capitol happy."

"We have much younger Victors. An ever-expanding supply, as I'm sure you are aware."

"It's true: the well for Victors never runs dry. The Capitol makes sure of that. But I'm still maintaining that victors like me and Finnick are useful to you. There are certain people here in the Capitol for whom Finnick is the drug of choice. How long has he been out of circulation? Six months? More? I bet those people aren't very happy with you."

Snow clasps his hands behind his back and begins pacing.

"What is it between you and the Hawthorne woman?" Snow asks. The way he says it make's Peeta's blood run cold.

"She's a friend," he says.

"An old friend," Snow says.

"Schoolmate," Peeta says.

"Ah!" Snow says. "Didn't you say once you met when you were five?"

"I didn't say," Peeta says.

"I do remember hearing that from somewhere. Hmmm, wonder which little birdy told me?" Snow pauses.

His father holding his hand. _"You see that little girl with the braids, Peeta? I was in love with her mother and then she ran off with a miner."_ Peeta blinks at the memory. He runs his hand tiredly over his face.

"You seem extraordinarily attached to her son. One would think, from the way you treat him, he were your own."

 _The Justice Building after his reaping. How he stared and stared at the door, through which she_ _never came._

"Spare me," Peeta says. The memory still hurts. Time hasn't softened its sting, not in the least. "You know as well as I that it's not possible."

"Yes, you'll never be able to have a child. With her or with anyone," Snow says. "Here in the Capitol, we go to great lengths to make sure our Victors are sterile. Statistically speaking, there is only a less than 1 percent chance of your conceiving any progeny."

_A less than 1 percent? Could it be that, somewhere in the Capitol, I have a child? I've been having sex with Capitolites for . . . forever . . ._

"Then why bring him up at all," Peeta says.

"Because in spite of the fact that he's not yours, he does mean something to you, doesn't he?" Snow says. "The boy."

"I like children in general," Peeta says.

"Hmmm," Snow says. "You never seemed to have much affinity for them. Before."

"I don't know how you arrived at that conclusion," Peeta says. "We treat our children well in 12. In general."

"Oh, have you managed to convince yourself of that?" Snow says. "I'm beginning to think Darna was right about you."

 _Darna? What?_ For a moment, Peeta's bravado falters.

Snow smirks. "I understand that Darna's talking to me may be viewed as somewhat . . . disloyal." He resumes his pacing. Then he says, "The weather is good today. A good day for a walk. Will you walk with me, Mellark? There is something you must see."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A new Arena is coming.


	51. LOSS

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meanwhile, back in Twelve . . .

He hadn't told her. Peeta hadn't said a word. He should have told her!

She finds out from Rye and Talia. By then, he'd been gone two days.

The pain is real, and so much worse than before. "I'm sorry," Rye says.

Not that she had expected anything to happen between them. Too much time had been lost. She'd always thought she could tell him one day. When she was stronger. When they had all the time in the world.

It turned out they didn't have much time at all.

The weeks they'd worked together in the bakery were all the time they would ever have. She didn't think he'd ever leave the Capitol now. Not with how things were going in Twelve. He was too valuable.

The narrative had always been too complicated for her to put into words.

It was Jason she worried about, now. He had panic attacks in the middle of the night. He'd wake up screaming. It didn't take much for Katniss to agree to move above the bakery, with Rye and Talia. Even Hazelle thought it would be a good idea. "It's safer for you and Jason," Hazelle said. Katniss wondered if she knew. Would she ever be able to tell her? What good would that do? Might as well keep up with the narrative. Especially with Peeta gone, and probably gone for good.

At least, Gale was still in the Justice Building. She'd been allowed to see him. He was thin, and there were dark circles under his eyes, but he seemed hopeful. Cray had told him the plans to move him to the Capitol had been put on hold for now.

He asked about Jason, and Katniss told him they had moved out of their house and into a room above the bakery, with Rye and Talia. He wasn't angry.

She had promised to see him the next day, but she hadn't been able to get past the steps of the Justice Building, her way was barred by Peacekeepers. She was about to make a scene, but one of Peacekeepers was Darius. He whispered a hurried message: "I'll keep an eye on him." Katniss had nodded and decided to trust him.

In the late night hours, Katniss asks herself: "Why? What more does Snow want of Peeta? Isn't it enough that he married _her_ . . . "  
  
She holds Jason close.


	52. CRAY PROPOSES A DEAL

The next morning, Katniss leaves Jason with Talia and Rye, and heads back to the Justice Building. This time, she's allowed in, but she's told she has to see Cray before they let her see Gale.

Her gut twists. She hates Cray with a passion. But if she refuses to see him, he may do something to Gale. Her only reassurance is that Darius, the kind Peacekeeper, is there. In fact, he is the one who escorts her to Cray's office.

"How is he?" Katniss says, in a low voice, as they walk.

"He's all right. They're still feeding him, anyway. How are you and Jason?" Darius whispers.

"We're fine. Any -- any word about Peeta?" Katniss asks, her heart in her mouth.

Darius hesitates. "I've heard -- something. There'll be an announcement soon."

"What announcement?" Katniss asks. But by then they've arrived at Cray's door.

Cray grins when he sees her and offers her a seat.

"I'd prefer to remain standing," Katniss says, coolly. She prays Darius doesn't leave the room; he doesn't.

Cray gives Darius an annoyed glance but continues: "Still as feisty as ever, I see, Mrs. Hawthorne. I can see why you have men eating out of the palm of your hand."

Katniss gazes scornfully at Cray and bites her lips together.

"Well, well. No matter. I've been authorized by Snow to present to you certain -- ah, conditions -- for your husband's freedom."

"What conditions?" Katniss asks.

"Money, of course." Cray states an amount. Katniss gasps. "But -- that's impossible! That's equal to a miner's salary for a whole year! How do you expect us to raise that kind of money?"

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Hawthorne, but those are Snow's terms. If you can raise the money, your husband goes free. If not, he will be sent to the Capitol."

Katniss stares, her face white. After a long moment, she asks, "How much time do I have?"

"Two weeks," Cray says.

Katniss nods. "May I see my husband?"

"Yes," Cray says, standing and rubbing his hands. "Darius, please escort Mrs. Hawthorne."

Gale's face is thin and drawn. He looks like he hasn't slept in days.

Katniss reaches across the table and squeezes his hand. "I'm sorry I couldn't see you yesterday. They wouldn't let me," she explains.

"I know," Gale says. There's a pause. "Katniss, I've been thinking."

Katniss doesn't like the sound of that at all, but she waits for it.

"I think . . . you have to let them take me to the Capitol."

Katniss gasps. "No," she says. "Never. How can you ask me that? You know what happens to people in the Capitol! They never come back, or they come back so changed they might as well never have come back!"

Gale looks taken aback by her anger. He's about to say something but she stills him with a gesture. "Cray offered me a deal."

Gale's face grows dark. "No," he growls. "No deal with Cray. If you think I'll let my wife -- "

"He wants money. Snow wants money." She names the price.

Gale goes white.

Katniss rushes ahead with, "I think I can get help. Maybe if we get together with your family, and . . . a few others . . . maybe ask Haymitch . . . "

"I don't want you to have to beg," Gale says, roughly. "No deal. I'm telling Cray today. Let me be taken to the Capitol."

"No!" Katniss cries.

"Katniss! It'll be all right. You have help. You have my family, and Rye and Talia have become your friends, they'll help take care of Jason. But don't even think of asking my family to help with raising that amount of money. I don't want you passing the hat in the mines, either."

Katniss's eyes fill with tears. Gale squeezes her hand. "And I wanted to tell you, for the longest time . . . I know."

Katniss looks up, startled.

Gale takes a deep breath, then continues, "I knew why you agreed to marry me. I knew!"

Katniss stares in shock.

"I knew, and -- I still married you. I wanted you so much. You've been a good wife, Katniss. I'll never regret that decision. I'm sorry I made it hard for you, being angry all the time. But -- if something happens to me, I want Jason to know."

A guard -- not Darius, this time -- comes to tell them that it's time for the visit to end. Katniss clutches Gale's hands. "Don't do anything rash, Gale. Please. At least give me time to talk it over with your family. I'll come tomorrow and let you know what they say."

Gale sighs. "I know what they'll say."

"Just -- please don't do anything rash. Don't talk to Cray. Don't talk to anyone. Promise me? Promise me, Gale!"

Reluctantly, he does.


	53. CAPITOL BROADCAST: MANDATORY VIEWING 2

Katniss doesn't understand how she could have missed it. No, that's not quite true. She knows. She shares a television set with Rory, and if he doesn't send someone to come get her, she assumes there's nothing she's missing.

Rory didn't get her; she and Jason slept through the latest Capitol announcement. She should be mad at Rory. But, in hindsight, she thinks it's just as well. She and Jason find out the next morning, when they go to the bakery. There are bouquets of flowers, lying strewn around the door: carnations and tulips, irises and gladiolus. Katniss's gut twists. _What does this mean?_

She pushes open the bakery door. As soon as she's inside, Rye and Talia come hurrying over. Their faces are pale.

"What's wrong," Katniss whispers. "Did -- did something happen to Gale? Are they taking him to the Capitol?"

Talia looks at Rye. He nods. She looks at Jason.

"Jason," Rye says. "I need you in the back. I'm taking some bread out of the ovens. Can you help?"

Jason looks first at Katniss. She nods. As soon as he and Rye have left the room, she looks questioningly at Talia.

"Katniss," Talia says. "I am so, so sorry. But -- I thought you knew. Last night, there was an announcement from the Capitol. There's going to be a new Hunger Games."

At Talia's words, Katniss feels weak. "A new . . . Hunger Games?" she repeats, not quite able to process, though despair courses through her. "Not with --" She takes a deep breath. "Not with PEETA?"

"Yes, with Peeta," Talia says. Her eyes fill with tears. "The flowers were here this morning, when we went to open the bakery. My father's in a very bad way. He's heartbroken, actually. My mother-in-law's taking care of him."

Someone enters the bakery. Katniss and Talia look up. It's a customer. No, not just a customer. It's Haymitch.

"Thought I'd find you here," Haymitch says. His voice is raspy, and he looks like he hasn't slept all night.

In his fist, ridiculous, are a bouquet of dandelions. "I -- I picked these up on the way. For Peeta." he thrusts them at Talia.

Every part of Katniss feels numb -- her brain, her heart, her mouth. She can't speak, but she shakes her head, and her eyes fill with tears.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," Haymitch says. "I know how much you meant to him. And I believe those feelings were -- reciprocated?"

Katniss just stares. Jason and Rye return to the front. The little boy's eyes move from his mother, to Haymitch, to Talia holding the dandelions.

"I've been to the Justice Building, and it seems they're not planning to move Gale to the Capitol. Not any more. There's this . . . new Games that's getting everyone's attention. So, you're in luck I guess," Haymitch says.

"Have you spoken to Peeta?" she asks.

Haymitch shifts from foot to foot. "I've tried," he says. "They won't let anyone speak to him."

"And -- Darna? Have you tried talking to her?" Katniss asks.

Haymitch hesitates. He scratches the back of his neck. "I have. They won't let me speak to her, either."

Katniss begins to cry. "Mama!" Jason says. He goes to her and tries to reach up to her face. He's so rarely seen his mother weak. And he's only seen her cry a handful of times. It terrifies him.

Katniss bends down and embraces him. "I'm fine, Jason," she says. "Don't worry. I'm fine." She hugs him tight. She should have told Peeta! It might have given him a little more hope. And he'd be stronger in the Games. Knowing he had Jason to come back to.

"Haymitch," Katniss says. "Can we talk?"


	54. BACK IN THE CAPITOL WITH SNOW

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I re-imagine Peeta's Games (Taking a few liberties with who Peeta killed)

_I must be dreaming_ , Peeta thinks.

Seabirds pepper the skies. Green sea turtles bob on the waves. Far in the distance, a pod of dolphins.

After that, Peeta will always have that bookmark of regret. Wondering if he'd given different answers, what might have changed. Wondering if real or not real.

_What is it between you and the miner's wife, Snow had asked._

If there was a trill of alarm, a tinge of premonition, Peeta never felt it. It was a beautiful, clear day in the Capitol. People stared at them. Peeta was still only wearing a robe, hardly anything.

 _Ah_ , Peeta thinks. _Real_.

He is flanked by Peacekeepers.

But the real surprise is Snow. No one has seen him out and about, in broad daylight, ever. And yet, here he is, walking at Peeta's side.

A rising tide of whispers surrounds Peeta and Snow as they walk. People stop working to stare.

 _That Avox there_ , Peeta thinks. _Do I know her from somewhere?_

It hurts to think, so he doesn't. The city seems endless. Or so it appears to Peeta that morning. Wherever he and Snow walk, crowds shrink back.

Wind swirls down the avenues. Clouds move across the sky as if in a hurry. Peeta, in his thin robe, shivers. He remembers the Arena, suddenly. Voices, dull and distant. He remembers how he carried the memory of Katniss, everywhere.

Their destination, it turns out, is a gigantic fence. They come to a halt.

"Here we are, my dear Victor," Snow begins, "This is the fence that separates the Capitol from the rest of Panem."

Peeta throws his head back, as if that might help him see to the top of the fence.

He sees familiar patterns. Where has he seen those patterns before? High in the sky are flocks of black vultures.

Peeta remembers the river where he hid in the sludge, where he killed first Chaff and then the other. He remembers the river stones and the muddy riverbank, and leaving Chaff's broken body, eyes wide open, staring unseeing at the sky. Peeta debated whether to close them, but decided against it. That was a warning to the others: _You have all underestimated me._

He knew Snow and the Gamesmakers were watching him from a large screen. He had given them everything, everything.

"Where's your friend this morning?" Peeta had said to the dead Chaff. "Hiding somewhere?" He imagined Claudius Templesmith licking his lips, eyes glued to the screen. A feeling of disgust rose in him. Peeta turned and headed back into the foliage, guilt making his steps heavy and slow. _  
_

_Cinna should have warned me_ , Peeta thinks. _No one ever wins, in the Games._

He remembered, after, standing in a shower, shivering and shivering, while Avoxes directed streams of warm water at his filth.

_But you can never wash the Arena away now. It's in my head, on my face, in my blood._

Peeta swallows. "Why did you bring me here?" he asks Snow.

"I can make anyone disappear, Mr. Mellark," Snow says. "Anyone at all. How I love the prospect of a new Arena."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who might be with Peeta in the 2nd round of Games? Darna for sure. Anybody else?
> 
> The next chapter is taking shape. A continuation of the conversation with Snow at the wall, a "laying-the-groundwork" type of chapter.


	55. A BURNING QUESTION

"Peeta, I would like to ask you a question," Snow says. "If you could choose to do anything you wanted, right at this moment, what would you do? And where would you go?"

Peeta looks at the wall. It seems to shimmer: first silvery and light, then dark again.

"Well," Snow chuckles. "I didn't really expect you to answer."

"Back," Peeta says, abruptly.

"Back? Where is 'back'?" Snow asks, a malicious look in his eyes.

"You know where that is."

"No, I'm afraid I don't," Snow says. "Enlighten me."

"I would have . . . a wife . . . and a child."

 _Fucking hell_ , Peeta thinks. _Why did I say that?_

"That could be easily arranged, with Darna. She is more than willing."

Instead of answering, Peeta raises his gaze. A bird swoops directly overhead, its shadow reflected on the wall. Something seems to wink at him, from far off, and then rain begins to fall.

"I have a question of my own, if you'll permit one," Peeta says.

Snow pauses, eyebrow raised. Then he gives Peeta a lurid smile. "Of course! Ask."

"What happened to Finnick?" Peeta asks.

Snow's mile widens. "What do you think?" he says.

"I think he's dead," Peeta says.

Snow shakes his head. "No, no. Not dead. Not . . . quite."

 _That smile_. Peeta tenses and his hands curl into fists. But then, he lets it go. There's a voice in his head. A voice from far away. _Don't be stupid_ , Katniss says. Her grey eyes flash with some intense emotion. Peeta bites his lip. _I mean it_ , Katniss says.

They return to find Darna waiting. Her eyes are puffy and red, as if she's spent a good part of the time crying.

"If you'll be so good as to come with me," Snow says to Darna.

"No," Peeta says. "No. What for? She stays with me."

"Mr. Mellark," Snow says. "I gave you a choice. You chose. It wasn't her."

"No!" Peeta repeats, but Darna's already getting up. Peeta tries to shield her, but the Peacekeepers are there.

"Peeta," Darna says softly, putting a hand on his shoulder. "It's not your fault."

Peeta slips both arms around her waist and tries to hold her.

"Mr. Mellark," Snow says. "Don't make this worse than what it has to be."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you don't feel too bad about the departure of Darna. She's been a big part of this story, I know.


	56. THE PRISONER

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, Katniss gets something of a reprieve.
> 
> I know it seems like Everlark seems right back to where they started, in Ch. 1. But no, not really.
> 
> THANK YOU all for sticking it out this far!

The whiskey etches a trail of fire down Peeta's throat. There was a decanter full, on the dresser next to his bed. Their bed. The bed he and Darna shared, only hours ago. He wants to throw the bottle against the wall, watch it shatter. He hates the quiet. He almost wishes for a client. No matter how hateful, it is better than the quiet.

But that part of his service is over. There will be no more clients, from here on out. Peeta had known that day would come, but he hadn't expected it to come so soon.

He goes into the bathroom, lets his bare feet become accustomed to the heated tiles. Then he sits on the lip of the wide tub. The water is warm, of course -- heated to a temperature of his exact preference.

 _It's the little things_ , Peeta thinks bitterly.

He stares at the giant clam shell with its profusion of soap, each wrapped in paper of a different color, all emitting the same sickening scent of roses. He stands and removes his robe. In the big mirror opposite, he stares at the clear lines of his collarbone, the unblemished skin of his chest, his abdomen, his hips. His body should be marked by now, he's had so many clients, each one wanting to leave a mark on him. But the Capitol has buffed all those blemishes away.

He stares at the corded muscles of his neck, and the slope of his shoulders, the length of his arms, his chest, the corset of his ribs, not a single hair left anywhere on him.

He sits down again on the lip of the tub, hesitates only a second and then plunges his head in. He stays like that, but not long enough. He comes up choking, the stench of chlorine pressed into his nostrils.

He staggers to the bed, eyes wide open, staring into the pitch dark, struggling to contain his racing thoughts.

* * *

Katniss stares at herself in the cloudy mirror over the sink. The other day, she thought she saw it, her first gray hair. And now, she's sure. It's there: a small tuft of grey, right by her right temple. She sighs. The Everdeen women have always been proud of their hair. But now -- ? The stresses of the past year have certainly taken their toll.

She goes to the wooden chest where she and Jason and Gale store their finer things. Two hand-me-down dresses from her mother, one mis-shapen sweater, three pairs of pants with frayed hems, a pair of mis-matched underwear, a pair of boots, one woolen scarf. She wonders if she should bother with a quick bath before she heads to the Justice Building. She wishes she had planned better. Cray is releasing Gale. He informed her yesterday.

She reaches into the bottom of the chest and pulls out a framed photograph. It's a picture of Jason when he was just a few months' old. His face is red and scrunched up. His tiny fists are balled over his head. She drags her finger lovingly over the image. She's still gazing at it when she hears Jason calling her. "I'm coming!" she calls out absently. Carefully, she puts the photograph back in the chest and gets up. She swallows a lump in her throat. She's heartsick, and so afraid.


	57. DARNA

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Switches back and forth, but mostly Darna's POV

_Two days earlier, in Peeta's apartment:_

_"Now, my dear, I am afraid we must be off," Snow said to her._

_Peeta grabbed her arm. So he still had no idea that it was all arranged. She had worked it out with Snow ahead of time. But her tears, her tears were real._

_Two Peacekeepers advanced on him. They threw Peeta to the ground, twisted his arms behind his back, and kept him lying face down. He'd grunted in pain._

_"Mr. Mellark! Pray do not cause a scene. Time is off the essence," Snow had said. "The sooner I get Ms. Keene to where I want her to go, the better for the both of you."_

* * *

Snow chuckles. Darna and he are alone in Snow's mansion. "You were absolutely convincing, my dear. The tears were a nice touch."

"So what happens now?" she asks Snow.

Snow smiles. "Well, can't let a good product like you go to waste. That would be entirely against my principles."

_She and Peeta lay close in the night, their bodies exhaling sweat, his smell so sweet, those few weeks before she returned with him to Twelve. Why did she have to go, why did she have to meet -- her? What made her pick up the phone, call Snow, tell Snow . . . it was all her fault. Peeta shouldn't have trusted her. He might have had a suspicion, towards the end. That's probably what made him ask her, Do you want to go back to the Capitol? And she, tugging his face down towards hers: Yes, of course. Don't you?_

She goes to bed. At least Snow doesn't force her to have a client that night. When she wakes the next morning, her cheeks are wet, her eyes are swollen. She's in no shape to entertain anyone. She's glad.

If Peeta were with her, he would touch her cheek, ask her softly, _What happened?_

* * *

"Careful," Gale says, as Katniss helps him out of the Justice Building. He blinks at the sun. His face is pale, too pale. And he has a worrying cough. And he stoops.

Jason hangs on to his other hand.

"Sun feels good," he says.

"Let's get you home," Katniss says.

"Soooo," Gale says. "What happens now?"

"Nothing happens," Katniss says. "Nothing forever."

That, Katniss knows, is a lie. Everything happens. She doesn't think she'll be able to take the next Capitol announcement, which likely will show Peeta. For his Second Games.

* * *

Darna blinks at the scene before her. A white-sand beach, stretching to the horizon. The sky -- the dome, she has to remind herself -- is a clear blue. She's made a kind of shelter for herself, out of coconut fronds. How long will she have to wait? Snow says she'll know; there'll be a signal.

She squints at the beach. Everything seems to shrink under this light.

She tightens the harness over her shoulders: two knives, sheathed in leather, just beneath each shoulder. Rows of gleaming mirrors and smoke pellets fastened round her waist. She crouches and waits, thinking over Snow's words: "You'll be able to take him out? You're sure?"

"Happy to," she says, shortly. "I'll make a spectacle of it."

While the new Arena was being readied, Snow had shown her tapes of Peeta and Katniss, from before.

"It's why he was reaped," Snow says. "A merchant and a Seam woman. The very idea!"

"How long -- " Darna swallows. "How long did Cray have his suspicions?"

"Oh, quite a while," Snow says. "They'd sworn everlasting love when they were fourteen, something ridiculous like that. The boy had a good body. I knew he'd be a highly prized commodity in the Capitol."

Darna's cheeks are suddenly wet. Snow tilts his head as he looks at her. "Come, come, my dear," Snow says. "No use crying over spilt milk." He extends a hand. Darna comes forward slowly and puts her hand in it. "I see a bright future for us."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Charging to the finish line!
> 
> I have a confession to make: When I first read The Hunger Games, I didn't finish it for THREE YEARS, stopped just 50 pages from the end because I was SO SURE Peeta was going to die, and he was my favorite character.
> 
> I only finished Book 1 when Mockingjay came out, then I finished Book 1, Book 2, and Book 3 in one weekend.
> 
> Next chapter's almost done. Thank you for reading!


	58. THE NIGHT BEFORE PEETA'S SECOND GAMES

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snow is despicable, Peeta is resigned.
> 
> Peeta gets to say good-bye to a few former clients!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, I'm deliberately keeping this short. Rest assured, I've written out three more chapters.

_"_ I'm sending you off, Peeta," Snow says.

"When? Right now?" Peeta replies. He drank everything in his suite. Everything. He was back to the old Peeta in no time.

"Oh, my dear Victor, I'm not used to this level of drama from you. You've always been so -- patient. Well, I do want you in optimum condition for this -- next challenge. Three weeks to dry out? Properly?"

And now the moment is at hand: it's the night before Peeta's Second Games. He's worked his ass off -- what could he do? He doesn't want to go quickly, it would be humiliating.

So here he is, at another spectacle, music and feasting in the Capitol. As far as he can tell, Darna isn't there. He half expects her to be waiting for him when he gets dropped into the Arena, ready with her knives.

But he knows she won't kill him off, not right away. She'll play it out. That's what Snow wants.

A few of his former clients approach him, in tears. "We won't let you die. We'll sponsor you," they assure him. He thinks of himself in their beds and his lip curls. "Thanks," he says, politely.

He scans the crowd for Finnick. Only a year ago, the handsome Victor from Four was charming the pants off these people. Now he's nowhere to be found.

He thinks of _her_ , back in Twelve. He hasn't been able to talk to anyone from back there, not even Haymitch. He knows she knows because he's been on Caesar Flickerman often enough. He thinks about Rye and Talia, and his father, and his mother. And Jason. He aches to tell them, _Don't be sad, it's better this way, nothing's worse than an old prostitute._

Haymitch would know. Haymitch would understand.

A woman comes up to him and Peeta doesn't recognize her at first. She looks up at him, points to his eyes and says, "You will come back. Do you understand?"

It's the woman who kept him for two years.

"I didn't keep you for two years only to have you get killed in your Second Games. You _will_ come back."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Capitol woman who "kept" Peeta for two years only appears in the beginning. So you did not miss much.


	59. THE NIGHT BEFORE THE NIGHT BEFORE THE GAMES

Things are awkward between Katniss and Gale, so awkward you could cut the tension with a knife. He seems to have lost all his energy and lies in bed all day. He coughs, and coughs badly. Miner's lung. It was bound to happen, sooner or later.

She stopped singing around the house; that was the first thing Gale noticed. He doesn't know if it was because of Peeta's Second Games, or because Gale is home, and there's an uneasiness between them.

"I knew he was watching you," Gale says one day. "I would see him sometimes, slinking around the Seam. He always acted like it was because of Ripper, the Hob, but I knew it was because of you."

She turns slowly to face him. "So? Why didn't you yell at him? Why didn't you have it out?"

Gale drops his gaze. "Jason -- " he says.

* * *

A week after Gale's release, Prim visits Twelve.

Katniss is grateful that Prim came to visit. At least, with Prim around, she has more moral support. Prim's concerned about Gale and keeps trying to coax him out of bed. But he can't seem to get up.

"He's very depressed," Prim says one day.

Katniss bites her lip. She knows it's her fault that Gale is depressed. She decides to say nothing to Prim.

Neither of them could have predicted what happens on the fifth day of Prim's visit. Katniss is inside, trying to get Gale to finish his supper, when she hears Prim talking to someone outside. Prim sounds -- angry? Then she screams, "Katniss!"

Katniss goes rushing out . . . and finds two Peacekeepers in her yard. Prim is collapsed on the ground, wailing.

One of the Peacekeepers says to Katniss, "Mrs. Hawthorne."

"Yes?" Katniss says. "What's this all about?"

"We need to take you to the Justice Building," the other Peacekeeper says.

Katniss narrows her eyes. "Why?"

"Never mind why," says the Peacekeeper who'd spoken first. "Orders are orders."

"But, but -- I just got back my husband," Katniss protests. "I can't leave him; he's ill."

A Peacekeeper takes her by the arm, his hold a little too tight.

"What? How dare you -- !" Katniss cries. "Let me go!"

"Ma'am, if you don't go quietly, we'll have to arrest you," one of the two says.

Jason comes out just then. "Mamma?" he says, a little afraid. He glances between Katniss and the Peacekeepers.

"Go back inside, Jason," Katniss grits out. "Wait for me there."

"Mrs. Hawthorne," says one of the Peacekeepers, "if you don't come along quietly, we'll have to take your sister as well."

"Take my sister? No, you don't."

"Come along now and don't make a fuss," says one of the Peacekeepers.

"Didn't you hear me? My husband is sick. He's only just been released from custody. I have to be here to take care of him."

The two Peacekeepers step forward and grasp Katniss by the arms. She struggles. Prim starts to wail.

One of the Peacekeepers goes to Prim and pulls her up off the ground. She wails louder.

"No! Stop!" Katniss cries. "Don't take her. I'll go." She turns to Prim, "Please take care of Gale. I won't be long."

Prim wipes her eyes. The Peacekeeper releases his hold on her and she dashes into the house.

"Right. Are you ready?" a Peacekeeper asks.

Katniss nods, slowly.

Once they're on their way, a terrible dread rises in her chest. The closer they get to the Justice Building, the more her feet start to falter.


End file.
